The Freedoms Undone
by NoxArkana
Summary: Janos Audron, last of the Winged Vampires and the Tenth Guardian. Feared by every living being on Nosgoth and deemed responsible for unspeakable atrocities, his existence was one of solitude, sorrow, fear and horror. He would have never thought that a beautiful creation such as music would make him meet his savior. She was not THE savior. But she saved him nonetheless.
1. Chapter One

Chapter One

Part 1

\- Broken Angel -

 _When you're happy, you enjoy the music._  
 _But when you're sad, you understand the lyrics._

 _. . ._

Janos clapped his book shut and dropped it onto the table, uninterested. Propping his elbows on the smooth, dark wooden surface, he buried his face into his hands, giving a long, exasperated sigh. He rubbed his temples, closing his tired eyes, and remained motionless.  
Then he exhaled noisily and stood up, inadvertently knocking the book to the floor. A small pang of guilt briefly suppressed his rather foul mood. He picked the book up, lightly brushing invisible dirt from the cover.  
He had probably read it a hundred times; the leather covered spine had grown thin and the binding threads were starting to break and dangle out from between the pages. He reprimanded himself for not treating it better. When his current restlessness abated, he would surely seek its comforting familiarity again.  
But not yet.  
Janos unfurled his wings, stretching them out to their fullest as he fought the stiffness brought by hours spent reading. Or more accurately, hours spent _trying_ to read. His concentration was severely impaired -he had been fighting with doubt and frustration for months. As the weeks passed it had become more and more difficult to find peace. He hadn't slept for the better part of a fortnight and his blood thirst was also affected. He swayed between voracious hunger and sick revulsion, and the few sips he had managed to keep down had been followed by a spinning head and waves of nausea.  
He returned the book to its rightful place on the shelf and walked out onto the balcony. The sun was bright at this hour, especially as its light was reflected back at him by the blue-green water below. It was early summer and the air was warm, but there were no humans, no activities in the canyons to observe and distract him.  
He wondered how Vorador was doing, but decided against troubling his fledgling. A reconciliation was necessary first, and Janos didn't have the energy for it. In his current state of mind, he could not face the delicate diplomacy of apologizing, not without compromising his viewpoints on the schismatic subject of humans. And even if that proved not to be necessary, even if they managed to speak on good terms, Vorador would worry at how emaciated Janos looked. The ancient vampire doubted he would be able to refuse the comfort of the mansion. It was far too tempting to envision a short permanence among his own kind, and Vorador would surely offer it. He always did.  
No. It was his duty to guard the Reaver, and guard it, he would, until the prophesied saviour came to claim it. Or until the end of time, whichever came first.  
He sighed at the thought. He wished there was someone who could understand his plight -being torn between loyalty to his broken kin and his guardianship. Someone with whom he could talk to without them running away screaming, sheer terror in their eyes, body trembling with raw panic. But no one was there, for no one would approach a vampire -especially not one as unapproachable as himself. Not that he'd wanted it to be so, but still.  
He recalled a time when vampires and humans lived together. A time when both his kin and theirs cared for Nosgoth. But then the Blood Curse had torn both races apart. And then the mass suicide. The humans themselves slaughtering each one of the survivors.  
Now he was alone.  
Melancholy creeped upon his mind, like a venomous black seed planted in the ground.  
Then, his sensitive ears caught the sharp noise of a small twig breaking. He raised his golden gaze, which he had unconsciously fixed on the stone floor, and quirked an elegant eyebrow at what he saw.  
Three figures were slowly approaching the lake and his retreat. Two of them were men, both as large as wardrobes, and were carrying a large object wrapped in a ruined white blanket, grunting obscenities under the weight. The last one was tall, silent, cloaked in a dark black mantle, and was simply following them on feather-light feet. The vampire watched curiously as the men placed the thing in a small niche in the mound that coasted the lake. The cavity was spacious enough to comfortably hold a party of three or four people, yer small enough not to be noticed by random travelers. Not that anyone would come this close to a vampire's lair.  
Janos studied them as the men turned towards the cloaked figure. They seemed to exchange a few words -he caught 'madness', 'vampire' and 'foolish'-, then the third person sent them away with an irritated wave of their hand and a small leather pouch. Far away as he was, Janos could still hear gold coins tinkling.  
 _A weapon, perhaps?_ , he wondered, golden eyes glazing over the concealed object. But no -its dimensions were far too peculiar. Too big to be a sword or spear -or anything akin to those-, it was also too small to be a catapult. Besides, the Sarafan wouldn't have sent only four men to hunt him down, not to mention that they did not even know where his refuge was.  
His attention was again drawn to the cloaked figure, who was currently gazing in the woods, as if to assure themselves that the men were really gone and they weren't hiding behind the trees instead, observing. Then, after a minute or so, they brought white, graceful hands to their hood and pulled it down.  
Janos' brows arched upwards in surprise as a cascade of dark curly locks fell down the human's back, brushing over the rough fabric of the mantle and reaching down her waist. Those thick strands were as black as his own broad wings, that special black which is indigo and blue and gold as it catches the light. They looked softer than the clouds above as they swang gently with the faint breeze. Then the human turned around and Janos found it hard to believe that she was a mere mortal.  
She looked no older than twenty-five -maybe twenty-six years old. Her skin was white, but did not possess that unhealty paleness of sick humans: it was as white as the snow that covered the lake's frozen surface in winter. No, that was not exact. Like a statue. Yes, that was more like it. Her skin was white as the purest of marbles, carefully shaped and smoothed. Such pearly complexion was made all the more beautiful by the vivid, large eyes that could be admired above her small nose. Crowned by long, dark eyelashes, her eyes shone profound and green like emeralds in backlight in the trees' shadows. Perfect black brows, curved like a butterfly's wings, were quirked in an expression of studied blankness. Janos' gaze was then caught by the sight of her lips -full, perfectly shaped, and lilac in color. Her features were so smooth, so finely chiseled that for a moment the ancient vampire thought he was admiring an impossibly beautiful painting.  
Then her lids fell, shielding her eyes from his gaze, and the illusion revealed itself for what it was: nothing more than an illusion. Her expression relaxed and he wondered if she had believed those men -if she even imagined that the monster so many legends talked about lived there.  
 _No_ , he thought bitterly. _For if she believed them, she would have never come here_.  
The woman was looking in the balcony's direction, but she did not see him. She _could not_ see him. His dark wings and the Aerie's everlasting shadows concealing his form to those emerald eyes. And so she turned again, unaware of his presence, defenceless and vulnerable and _dead_ had it been any other vampire. But Janos was Janos. He had never killed when he had had the chance to do otherwise. And even now, with thirst and ache and discomfort tugging at the back of his mind, knowing that the blood of a human would help him recover, he did not move from his spot. Besides, he was curious. He had always been and always would be. He had so many questions already, questions that were more than likely to be left unanswered. Who was she? Why was she there? What did the white blanket hide?  
He watched, silent and unmoving, as she approached the hidden niche. He watched still as she concealed it with vines and branches and rocks. He watched as she stepped back, and looked at what she had done. He watched and felt a faint sense of loss as she put her hood back on.  
She looked in his direction one last time, her visage shadowed by the hood. He wished he could look at her in the sunlight.  
Leaving a stunned vampire behind, she turned again and walked away, calmly, unaware of the golden eyes that silently followed her every move. Her black mantle floating elegantly behind her.  
Janos wished she had not left.

. . .

Authoress' note:  
I do not own in any shape or form the characters featured in this story-this also applies to the story's image cover and to the quotes at the beginning of each chapter. I only own my OC and the story's plot.  
English is not my first language, so, if you notice any mistakes, please report them in the reviews. This is my first story ever and any constructive criticism is highly appreciated. I will try to keep the characters as in-character (I don't even know if this is how it's written) as I can.  
Comments please!  
Have a good day/night and love Legacy of Kain!


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

 _Music speaks what cannot be expressed  
Soothes the mind and gives it rest  
Heals the heart and makes it whole  
Flows from Heaven to the soul_

 _. . ._

The following three days, Janos found it hard not to think about the raven haired woman. Her green eyes kept resurfacing in his mind, no matter what he was doing. He had never seen such mesmerizing green irises, so full of serenity and relief, as if an incredibly heavy weight had been lifted off her shoulders, emotions that her blank face hadn't shown. And with her eyes, he recalled her behaviour as well. He'd lived for many, many centuries, but never in his life had he seen a human act like they didn't care at all about being killed. Even the warriors he'd attacked while hunting, even though they proclaimed not to be afraid of dying, had always begged to be spared in the end. But that woman...  
 _After all_ , he thought with a hint of bitterness, _she must have heard the stories they tell in Uschtenheim. The demon in the mountains. Tch.  
_ He understood the humans very well, but he couldn't help the twinge of sadness that flickered in his mind at the thought of her sitting among other people, listening to atrocities he had never and never would commit. Years back Vorador had told him a few, probably, Janos had reflected long afterwards, with the mere purpose of amusing him. The green skinned vampire surely had found them entertaining, and it was no wonder, given how Vorador was, but Janos had only found them utterly and completely disgusting. To think he would eviscerate newborns just because he felt like it...  
He grimaced. He was positive that his happy afternoon memories had ruined his day for good.  
With a sigh, he walked out of the library and quietly made his way through the silent stone halls of his Aerie. It was hot that day, but Janos didn't mind the heat. The cold didn't disturb him, at least to an extent, but the summer's heat always made him feel _alive,_ even if now he was utterly exhausted.  
He pushed one of the imposing double doors open, not a creak disturbing the sound of silence, and found himself in the hall he'd claimed as his study. Bookshelves, a fireplace, his beloved balcony...  
And the Reaver.  
He glanced at the chest where he kept it from the corner of his eyes. There were days he felt he just loathed the damn thing, days in which he would have gladly casted it into the deepest depths of the lake, fly away and never return. But it was his duty to guard the Reaver.  
 _...and guard it, I will_.  
He closed his eyes again, rebuking himself for the blasphemies he was thinking, and silently walked to the balcony. It was late afternoon and the birds chirped, the leaves rustled with the wind, the water splashed over the shore. All these sounds calmed him and soothed his mind somewhat, but he could still feel his physical discomfort, not to mention his mental suffering.  
Then, slow, sweet and gentle, came the melancholic notes of a harp.  
His golden eyes flew open and snapped downwards, towards the woods. They widened in surprise as he took in what he was seeing.  
Sitting there, her long raven hair cascading down her back, sat the woman with emerald eyes. Her black mantle had been tossed aside along with the white blanket which had covered the harp until then -long, lithe fingers lingering on the golden intrument's strings. Her delicate frame was wrapped in a long lilac tunic, her pale throat beautifully outlined by the soft fabric as she tried the harp again. Around her neck, resting on her collarbones, was a black crucifix pendant. Janos marvelled at the delicious contrast of the dark jewel on her alabaster skin.  
Unaware of having a spectator, she began to delicately pluck the harp's strings. A slow, sweet tune pervaded the air, accompanied by the wind rustling among the leaves and the soft murmur of the water.  
The vampire watched, mesmerized. Her slender white hands flew on the strings and her green eyes closed gently. Although she couldn't see, she wasn't getting a single note wrong. It was as if the music had totally merged with her, creating one perfect living being.  
In normal circumstances, Janos would have wondered why she had chosen to play there; of all places, she'd chosen a vampire's den. But this time his mind just mercifully decided to switch off, leaving only the angelic vision in front of him and the soft tune behind. He subconsciously leaned against the balcony's side pillar as he felt the melody soothe his feverish mind like no other thing would. Intense sweetness and melancholy, with a touch of lugubrious pride and burning hope -all those emotions were encased in the music she was playing, the notes flying to him and warming him from the inside. He let himself slide down the pillar until he was nestled on the stone surface of the balcony, his wings comfortably resting on his shoulders, allowing him to have a perfect view of the woman.  
He didn't know how much time he had spent simply sitting there, watching her play and listening to her music, and honestly, he didn't really care. He just knew that, at some point, the notes had stopped floating in the air.  
Janos slowly opened his eyes -when had he even closed them?- and saw her getting up. She grabbed the worn out white cloth she had used to cover her harp and gently put it back on the instrument, so it wouldn't get ruined. Then she stepped out in the soft shadows of early evening, beneath the moon's pale light.  
She seemed made to be in that light. Her white skin shone with an ethereal glow that made her look even more beautiful than she already was. Her dark green eyes sparkled more than usual and her pale lilac lips looked just the tiniest bit darker.  
Janos' eyes widened when he realized he'd been there for over two hours. It felt as if the experience had lasted aeons, and at the same time mere seconds.  
He slowly got up as she wrapped the black mantle around herself. She stopped briefly to glance at the cavity, then turned around and walked away.  
That night, and the whole day after it, Janos tried hard not to think about the mysterious woman and her unbelievably beautiful music. It had been like she had casted a spell on him for a few brief hours, making him forget his exhaustion and frustration. The ancient vampire had never felt so at ease since he'd taken up the Reaver's guardianship. And that was a terribly huge amount of time, even for a vampire.  
 _Who are you, child?  
_ It was a question to which he would never answer.  
Or so he thought.

Two days came and went.

On the third day, she came again. Again she played, and again all he could do was listen.  
This went on for a whole month. Every three days she would come and spend two or, when Janos was lucky, even three hours there, simply creating the tune that had fascinated him so. During each of her visits, the Ancient could _feel_ his tired mind shut down and become blind to anything that wasn't her music. It was, Janos found himself thinking once, like the priest Moebius' staff: it could strip him of each and every one of his defences, leaving him vulnerable and helpless, but _this_ did so in the most pleasant way possible. Her music would always make him feel at peace with himself and the whole Nosgoth.  
She would always start by playing four soft notes, notes that would announce him that she had returned and he could sigh in relief again. For he feared that if he ever was to be spotted, she would run away screaming in sheer terror, never to return again, leaving him again in solitude.  
Janos wished he could talk to her. He felt that it would be the most interesting talk of his life. But he refrained -he was sure that if he ever tried to approach her, all he would cause would be cries of horror and fear and revulsion. And he didn't want to cause fear in such an angelic creature. He'd hate himself if he would ever be the cause of fright in such beautiful eyes.  
And so he kept his questions to himself, never going further than the shadow's edge on his balcony, rising silent prayers that she would never find out he watched her when she came to the lake.  
His God listened to those silent pleas. Until that fateful afternoon of August, that is.  
It had been the hottest day Janos could remember, but the infernal heat hadn't stopped the young harpist. She'd come there at her usual hour and had spent a few hours of her life playing her harp -and unknown to her, to soothe a vampire's troubled mind. As usual, he'd spent that time sitting against one of the pillars that sided the balcony, smiling slightly the whole time. When the shadows of the evening had fallen upon them, she'd put on her mantle and covered her harp back up. As usual.  
But then, when Janos opened his eyes again, he was met by two green orbs staring right in his direction.  
He felt a sense of dread wash over him like a bucketful of icy water. The time seemed to stop and he felt as if every living being on Nosgoth was staring at them, wanting to see how it would end. His breath and his heart hitched in his throat. He went completely still as her eyes widened, pupils blown wide. Her hand slowly rose to grasp the black crucifix that dangled on her collarbones as she took one step back.  
His first instinct was to fly to her. To tell her he meant no harm, that he never had. To tell her how beautiful she was, how unbelievaby sweet her music sounded to his ears. Tell her not to leave him alone.  
He did not. He _could_ not.  
She took another step back. Then another. And another.  
And she came to a halt.  
A small bubble of hope swelled in his chest as a million different emotions flashed in her eyes. Fear, doubt, anxiety, curiosity... _and a small glint of trust_.  
Her perfect lilac lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but nothing came out. Her brows knitted together.  
She turned around, and ran.  
Janos' heart, which had been stuck in his throat since her eyes had met his, sank beneath his feet and into the stone below.  
He slumped down on the stone surface and buried his face in his hands.

. . .

Authoress' note:  
I do not own in any shape or form the characters featured in this story-this also applies to the story's image cover and to the quotes at the beginning of each chapter. I only own my OC and the story's plot.  
Comments please!  
Have a good day/night and love Legacy of Kain!


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

 _Music is the only thing  
That hits you with no pain_

 _. . ._

Panting with the effort, she ran towards Uschtenheim. The branches of the bushes whipped her everywhere, on her face, on her arms, on her legs, ripping her tunic and leaving tiny scratches on her skin. Her heart pounded deafeningly in her ears, her legs and chest hurt from how long she'd been running. Her raven hair fluttered behind her, getting caught in the branches she left behind.  
She knew that one of them lived there. It was the reason she'd hidden there inthe first place. No man would have come, no woman would have called for her. She would have been alone. At peace, at least for a little time.  
But when she'd seen him, the only thing she'd been able to do had been running.  
As always.  
Tears of frustration and shame formed in her eyes. And she ran.  
His eyes. The golden eyes of someone all of her kin would condemn. The eyes of a vampire.  
They'd held so much melancholy. So much humanity. So much beauty.  
Hadn't he looked _shocked_ when he'd locked eyes with her?  
She stumbled on a fallen branch jutting out from the ground and fell with a shrill cry. Fresh blood oozed out from new wounds on her knees and hands. Its red color made a memory flash before her eyes -leather whips and belts falling down to destroy someone that had no idea of what they had done to deserve such punishment.  
She forced herself up, breath ragged and heart pounding, and frantically looked around. She couldn't see anything but trees, trees and more trees. She couldn't hear anything but the wind and the birds chirping.  
What if he was after her? What if  
 _(Come here you fucking whore)_  
he was already there? He'd kill her. She'd die. She'd cease to exist.  
 _You're already close to that, my dear. You're becoming the shell of who you once were._  
Had she ever been someone? Had she ever been more than something one could just play with?  
 _(You are nothing you've always been nothing)_  
With a horrified screech, she turned and ran. Desperately trying to force his voice out of her head.  
She didn't know if she was running away from the vampire or from her father's voice. From the feeling of his fists on her body, from the rage he unleashed on her and that she could not comprehend.  
And she ran. She ran until she saw the town's red flags and bloody insignes flutter in the air. A flood of people was constantly flowing in and out of the town's south gates, soldiers, merchants, beggars and peasants with wagons.  
She had to get in there without being noticed by anyone, or the folks would talk about why she was covered in cuts, hair disheveled, panting and gasping for breath. And she couldn'thave them talk any more than what they already were. She could not.  
She pulled her black hood on her head and silently joined a family who were entering. The soldiers in front of the gates didn't even bother to ask questions and she sent a silent thank you to her small lucky star.  
She parted from the people once inside the town and walked in silence through the streets, mantaining a low profile. Anywhere she rested her gaze, there were people walking around. Men in shining armor or fancy tunics, women with heavy embellished dresses and painted faces, elaborated hairstyles and precious jewels. She thought about her own appearance and didn't find it hard to understand why the nobility was always so surprised when they were told that she was the governor's daughter.  
After long anguish-filled minutes of walking, her father's stronghold came into view. It was a tall, gloomy building of hard bricks and darkened stones, with lines and lines of dead vampires crucified on the pikes. Sadness welled up in her eyes and she whispered a silent 'rest in peace' to the air, as she always did. The vampires there looked so different from the one she was running away from.  
She didn't even dare to come close to the front gates. She'd entered in Uschtenheim from the southern door, so she currently was in front of the correspondent side of the stronghold. There weren't any doors there, for that side was in the vampire Vorador's mansion's general direction and the vampire's fledglings usually attacked from there. During the day there weren't as many soldiers as on the other sides of the building. There were, however, four watchful-eyed sentinels on the bastions. Their number was extremely small, but she still could be spotted if she wasn't careful.  
As silent as a thief, she crawled close to the stronghold's walls, concealed by the shadows and the houses. Taking on a nonchalant behaviour, she walked behind a small wooden house, which had been abandoned almost twenty years before and had never been demolished. Its owners had moved away after the third incursion of Vorador's fledglings, who had razed their home and killed each one of their animals while the inhabitants of the town were being hosted and protected behind the stronghold's walls.  
She entered the tiny building -its smell of rot and filth was a punch in the face. A grimace contorted her fair features as she kicked away the ruined carpet, which was so dirty that its original colour could not be distinguished anymore. Beneath the old thing she saw the small hidden manhole she was looking for.  
Once inside the secret corridor, she sighed in relief.  
It was a narrow, dark underground passage she'd found when she was a child. She had been playing hide and seek with her nanny and had hidden behind a statue of a one-eyed man. She had peeked out to see if Mary was coming and had placed a hand on the statue's left foot, pressing down. In that moment she'd heard a sharp clicking sound and had found out that the statue had opened up, revealing a hollow interior.  
She reached out a hand and pulled the disgusting carpet back in place to hide the manhole. Once the trapdoor was closed again, she walked through the near claustrophobicly narrow hallway for what seemed like hours. Its ceiling was low, so she was forced to bend to walk on. The air in the place was rotten, smelling like earth and cold stone and old dusty bones. The floor was covered in filth and worms writhed beneath her boots. To say that it was unpleasant was an understatement, but over the years she'd grown used to it.  
When she finally arrived at the end of the passage, she climbed the wet wooden ladder which hung on the wall. She opened the second manhole above her head and hoisted herself up in the hollow statue. Taking off her dark mantle and letting it fall down in a black heap, she then pushed the statue's back open and slid out, closing it back behind her.  
She was in another corridor now, this one brighter and with its ceiling higher in the air. The walls were made out of the same dark stones that constituted the city walls and the high, large windows let the sun's bright light in the place -but the same light that should have given the corridor a reassuring aura seemed devoid of its beauty. This light was too bright, too strong, too merciless and casted countless shadows over the long hallway, giving it an almost gloomy fairytale atmosphere. Tapestries and paintings covered the walls -terrifying scenes of ancient past battles. Dark stone columns rose from the floor to the ceiling, looming over the young woman like silent monsters of the night.  
 _Like the one I just left behind...  
_ But why hadn't he _looked_ like one? Why did he have to look so... so...  
So _human_...  
So much more human than many men.  
The woman took a long breath and composed herself, schooling her features in a mask of icy indifference before stepping out and walking through the corridor. She ignored the concerned and puzzled looks she received from the servants, silently commanding not to tell a soul that they had seen her. Not that they would, of course. They had been trained not to question any of their masters' behaviour, no matter how strange. Her father's viscid counselors and slutty concubines were nowhere to be seen and she felt unbelievably grateful for that.  
If the journey through the underground passage had felt like it had taken hours, this one felt as if it had lasted mere seconds. Within the blink of an eye she was pushing the heavy doors of her private chambers open, walking inside and slamming them closed again.  
There, she stood still for exactly four seconds. Then she slid down along the doors, any sound she could have made going unheard as she held a hand over her mouth and tears of relief welled up in her green eyes. She exhaled a shaky breath as she let her lids fall shut.  
The woman remained there for long minutes, still too shocked to process the fact that she'd made it without getting killed. She shook like a leaf in the wind, huddled up against the doors, her heart slowly calming down and her breathing becoming more even. She opened her green eyes again, taking in where she was as if to assure herself that she was truly safe.  
Contrarily to he father and relatives, she had never been one for opulence and sumptuosity. Her rooms only held her bed, a desk with a stool and a closet. Next to the latter was another small door which led to her private bathroom. All her furniture was ivory colored and the walls had been painted a delicate shade of blue. Opposite the main door was the only luxury she hadn't been able to say no to.  
Flanked by heavy blue curtains, the huge window took half the wall's room, rising from the floor to the high ceiling and bathing the chamber in warm sunlight. In its middle stood a glass door which led to her private balcony. It gave her the perfect view of the forest, the mountains and the town below. The landscape it offered was truly a sight to behold.  
By the time she'd taken in her surroundings, the woman had calmed down almost completely. Adrenaline still rushed through her veins, but her heart no longer raced in her chest, and her breathing was even. She pushed herself up and walked to the window on shaky legs. If she sharpened her view, she could catch a small glimpse of the vampire's retreat. Her chest tightened when she realized she'd left her mother's harp there.  
She'd hidden at the vampire's lake mainly to escape her father and his disgusting court. Those eyes full of fake respect and barely concealed contempt, those scandalized whispers when she walked around the castle. The sufficiency and pity so many women showed upon her, relishing in the knowledge that she couldn't defend herself. She had found her escape in music, and when that kingdom of notes had been threatened, she had concealed it at the feet of their most ancient enemy's palace. There, in the most dangerous and paradoxical way, she had found a place where to stop hiding.  
She almost laughed emotionlessly to herself. What kind of desperate soul had she become?  
She leaned against the window's frame and sighed deeply. She'd just begun to recover from the fright she'd taken when a sharp knock came from her door.  
«My lady?»  
She flinched. _Leave me alone_.  
With a sigh, she unlocked the door and opened it. «Mary...»  
The old maid entered the room without invitation and closed the door behind herself. A frown appeared on her wrinkled sweet visage.  
«What happened to you, my lady?» she asked. Then, much more quietly: «Your father again?»  
The younger one shuddered, closing her eyes, and shook her head. «No. It wasn't him this time.»  
«You have an impressive knack for hurting yourself» the old woman commented, forcing her beautiful mistress to sit on the stool. «What did you do this time? Did you climb a tree again?»  
«I don't climb trees since I was eleven, Mary...»  
«Whatever. Tell me about it?»  
The young woman wrapped her arms around herself as Mary stomped in the bathroom, searching for alcohol and bandages. «I... I don't want to talk about it».  
Her voice came out just above a whisper and had Mary been even just a little hard of hearing, it would have been lost in the breeze that blowed out of the huge window. But despite her old age, she was still amazingly perky, and she caught every word even as she was rummaging in the bathroom, looking for clean bandages.  
A deep frown appeared on her wrinkled face and she walked back in the bedroom. The little girl she'd taken care for so long was curled up in a trembling ball on the stool, her raven hair covering her face.  
She placed the tools down and went up to the trembling woman. She wrapped her old arms around her, holding her to her chest, treasuring the feeling of having her little girl back in her arms.  
«Oh, Nerissa...»  
At the sound of her name, the younger one lifted her gaze. Her beautiful green eyes pierced the maid's sweet brown ones. She sighed and let her head fall back against the older woman's chest.  
«Mary?»  
«Hmm?»  
«Tell me about the winged vampire, will you, please?»  
The maid blinked at the unusual request. Usually, Nerissa did not wish to hear legends and stories about vampires, because she was convinced that there was more beneath the veil of evil humans had placed upon them. She had seen vampires kill and attack out of hunger, while the men she lived with tortured and killed out of cruelty. After her first public execution of a vampire, the veil of sanctity which covered the men around her had shredded, leaving nothing but brutality and bloodlust behind. When she had come back, pale and sickened from the horrid show, she had told the old maid about her decision of never supporting a crusade again. From then on, she'd become a strong supporter of diplomacy and had renounced her faith, for, she said, "I cannot believe in a God who wants someone, _anyone_ , even a vampire, to suffer like that".  
Only Mary knew what her true thoughts were, though. If Abraham Reinheit ever found out about his daughter's true opinions, he would surely have her executed on charges of high treason.  
Mary had often wondered if she was right. With a heavy heart, she had wondered many times if her son would still be with her if he had dealed with the green-skinned vampire with words, instead of swords and claws.  
«What do you want to know, my lady?» she asked, helping the young creature to take off her robe. Beneath it, Nerissa wore a thin, sleeveless silk tunic -one only a male would wear, but Mary had resigned to her child's stubborn, strange behaviour many years ago. The garment was dark blue and enhanced her skin's whiteness.  
«Anything you're willing to share with me.»  
Mary smiled affectionately as she fetched the bandages and alcohol from where she'd left them on the bed. As usual, Nerissa had been able to confuse her.  
So, where to start...?  
«The creature's name is Janos Audron,» she began, her tone neutral, «and he is the only vampire we ever saw who has wings. Many legends blossomed around his figure, but none has ever been proven as true, except for the bloodthirst one, of course.»  
Nerissa didn't make a sound as Mary poured the alcohol on the wounds on her back. The maid's expression saddened -the little girl she'd raised had suffered much worse than a few scratches. The thick web of scars on her back would have made any other gag in disgust, but Mary had seen them appear one by one, growing from bleeding gashes to whitish slashes on her alabaster skin. They were, at the same time, a part of her and alien marks.  
«He is immune to sunlight and sacred talismans just as consecrated hosts and crucifixes. It is said that he has sired the vampire Vorador, and hence he is believed to be the patriarch of all vampires who roam Nosgoth. They call him the Demon of the Mountains, and it is said that his lair is where the most painful and atrocious tortures are inflicted upon innocent people.»  
Nerissa lifted her arms as Mary wrapped clean, white bandages around her torso. The scars on her sides stretched, following her movement.  
Mary turned her attention towards her bloody knees and hands.  
«It is said that his hunger destroyed whole villages -their inhabitants dying in the most ruthless ways imaginable. Countless children and women were dismembered to quench his thirst for death and pain».  
Nerissa rose up sharply as soon as her hands were bandaged, interrupting Mary with an abrupt movement of her hand. Mary sensed her discomfort by the way she acted -not like the gentle woman she always was, but like an arrogant king who was used to be obeyed.  
The woman quickly put her tunic back on and sighed, running a hand in her pitch-black hair. Mary saw how it was shaking.  
«Why this sudden question, my lady, may I ask? It is clear that my answer disturbed you.»  
Nerissa closed her eyes for a moment. «You may ask. But I'll keep the answer to myself. At least for now. I'm sorry, Mary, but I need to think. I'll tell you one day. I promise.»  
Mary bowed at the clear dismissal and retired, leaving Nerissa alone.  
Once she heard the door close, Nerissa exhaled shakily. Leaning against the wall which supported the window, arms crossed on her chest, she let her gaze wander again towards the vampire's palace. She now knew something about her silent spectator... but she still didn't know what to make of his behaviour.  
 _If you relish in pain and death so much, Janos Audron, then why haven't you killed me?_  
Had he been standing there all the times she'd gone to the lake? And if yes, why? Why not just kill her when he'd seen her for the first time? She'd been helpless, vulnerable beyond his most optimistic expectations, and yet she was still there to tell the tale. Alive. Not even a tiny scratch.  
Then a crazy thought popped up in her mind.  
She'd gone there to play her harp. Could it be that he had spared her life because he liked her music?  
Nerissa shook her head. No one had ever told her something about vampires liking music. She'd realized that he was watching her just a scarce hour before, and he already was an enigma.  
Despite the pang of fear, a small smile crept up upon her face.  
She had always liked riddles, and this one looked like a very complicated one.  
A sudden commotion beneath her balcony made her shift her gaze.  
Soldiers, officers and commonalty were accompanying an armored man riding a white horse. The insignes and fanfare were more than enough to tell her who he was, and Nerissa felt her blood run like ice in her veins.  
She closed her eyes and slid down along the wall, curling up on the floor. Her whole body tensed up in sheer dread, and suddenly being eviscerated by an angry vampire didn't sound such a bad idea.  
 _I wish you had killed me, Janos Audron, for it would have been a more merciful fate..._  
Abraham Reinheit was home.

. . .

Authoress' note:  
I do not own in any shape or form the characters featured in this story-this also applies to the story's image cover and to the quotes at the beginning of each chapter. I only own my OC and the story's plot.  
Comments please!  
Have a good day/night and love Legacy of Kain!


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

 _Music gives a soul to the universe  
Wings to the mind  
Flight to the imagination  
And life to everything_

 _. . ._

Alone in his chambers, Janos was sitting with his legs crossed on a stool by the dark, empty fireplace, an old tome in his lap and wings sagged on his back. His eyes were fixed on the ancient runes and anyone who'd have seen him would have thought he was completely absorbed by the old book. But the page was always the same; his golden irises had been fixed on the same line for over ten minutes and not even once had Janos been able to understand what it said.  
If he'd hoped to distract himself, he'd been painfully mistaken.  
Janos exhaled, resting his forehead on his hand, and finally gave up the useless attempt at diverting his own attention. It was no use; her eyes kept tormenting him whenever he closed his own. It didn't make sense to the ancient vampire. After all, hadn't he seen oh so many frightened human eyes in his long, long life? Hadn't he seen the same expression over and over again? Each human looked different than the other, and yet their expressions and their emotions remained the same. The only human who had not feared him had been Vorador; but then again, Vorador had known him for a long time before Janos even became a vampire. They had been friends, and close ones at that. It had made quite the difference, as Janos had discovered when the blacksmith had asked the winged vampire to make him part of his race.  
He had never forgotten the eyes of the first human he had killed. Over the years, he'd become used to them. The fear, the hatred, the desperate pleas for mercy... all of it had become a background noise. A noise which had become more and more indistinct as time passed and the curse decimated his race.  
But those eyes, eyes greener than any gem he'd ever seen, simply wouldn't leave his mind. He desperately wished he could erase those last moments, take away the fear he'd seen there, but not even he would dare meddle with the time's course. That magic had been used by Moebius the Time Streamer in more than one occasion, and always with inauspicious consequences.  
Janos let out a quiet sigh and got up, closing the book shut and leaving it onto the table. Running a light-blue-skinned hand in his black hair, he walked out of his bedroom and quietly closed the heavy wooden doors behind his back. He leaned against them, pausing with his eyes closed, hoping. It was late afternoon, the time the angelic harpist usually came, but no sweet notes resounded, just like it had been for the past two weeks -and Janos felt the usual pang of sorrow ripple through him.  
An incomprehensible ache had been biting at his chest ever since she'd left running. It was almost as if he was mourning the loss of a creature he'd held dear -and Janos had shaken his head when he'd first thought this. After all, she was just a young human who came to play a golden harp... she had nothing to do with him.  
Janos had thought that many times, mainly to try and regain some kind of composure. But then the deafening silence of his Aerie had threatened to overwhelm him. A silence that had kept on reigning since Vorador's last visit -almost two years prior by then. It had started seemingly peacefully, before turning into a violent argument which had ended with the green-skinned vampire teleporting back to his mansion, screaming profanities to his own maker, while Janos cursed under his breath and wondered just _how_ could Vorador know him so well and yet misunderstand him entirely.  
That woman, even if they had never talked, even if they had never even _looked_ in each other's eyes, had been able to break that silence. She had melted the cloak of ice that had surrounded his retreat and had let the summer in, warming up everything within it.  
But now the ice had returned, and Janos felt it stronger than before, because he'd had a taste of how the summer was.  
He closed his eyes, sighing tiredly, and let his head rest back on the wooden doors. He absently weighed the idea of going looking for her, then rejected it just as absently.

 _I am not afraid._

And pain exploded behind his closed lids.

. . .

When Janos recovered his senses, he looked around with some sort of vague stupor, as if he didn't quite expect to find his surroundings where they were. Not that he did, of course: he didn't expect to find a perfect and very detailed view of the ceiling to greet him, for example; nor did he expect to be lying face upward, which he never did, for it was uncomfortable if one had extra limbs on their back.  
But by the sea and stars, he surely didn't expect the throbbing migraine that was clouding his mind.  
With a pained groan, he weakly sat upright, only to be assaulted by a wave of nausea. His head was spinning like never before and he had to support himself on his arms to avoid falling again to the floor. His wings ached horribly from being crushed beneath his body for what seemed like hours.  
Any other vampire would have freaked out at waking up without knowing what had knocked them out cold, but as always, Janos managed to keep an impressive amount of calm. Once he'd assured himself that he was indeed safe in his study, he proceeded to try to remember what had happened before he'd lost consciousness, finding out that he could not. His headache was worsening rapidly, as if something was trying to crack his skull open from the inside. Unable to hold back a small whimper of pain, the ancient vampire grabbed his head, instinctively tucking his sore wings close to his body, like a large black cocoon.  
He remained like that for what felt like aeons. Finally, after a long, agonizingly long time, the pain diminished _somewhat,_ reducing to a dull throb. When that happened, Janos slowly parted his wings, once again able to think lucidly.  
And to _remember_.  
 _Wh-what...?  
_ Something, someone, had Whispered right into his mind.  
Janos took a deep breath, fighting the growing fog and that throbbing pain that was threatening to tarnish his lucid mind once again. He tried to examine the event by an objective point of view, focusing on the voice that had pronounced the words. It was clearly feminine, low, slightly guttural, unbelievably soft. It had said those four words determinedly, but he recalled the smallest sliver of worry in the way they were pronounced.  
 _I am not afraid.  
_ _'The Whisper is a natural ability of vampires that allows them to communicate over great distances, similarly to telepathy'_ he mentally recited. But the thought didn't make sense, as though it was part of a conversation he had not heard, and therefore could not comprehend. Those words had been pronounced so _naturally_ that they could not be anything but a stand-alone thought, and so not meant for anyone to perceive.  
His train of thoughts was brusquely interrupted when he realized he'd lost consciousness after being hit by a wave of pain he could only describe as if his very bones were on fire. Never had he experienced such an excruciating physical pain, not even during the war with the Hylden. He faintly remembered the sound of agonized screams.  
Had he cried out?  
The most ancient vampire on Nosgoth had been knocked unconscious by the violence and raw power of that one thought, which had clearly not been flung at him as an attack.  
It was kind of a humiliating thought.  
Janos glanced out of the balcony. The light was the same as when he'd lost consciousness, but the torches on the walls that sided the palace had long since burnt out.  
Twenty-four hours had passed since he'd passed out.  
With an incredulous hiss, Janos slowly got up, supporting himself on the wall. He practically dragged himself to the balcony, hiding in the shadows -thinking against all rationality that whoever it was that had made this mess out of him, was out there, waiting.  
His breath hitched in his throat.  
Because against all rationality, that someone was indeed out there, and was waiting.  
She stared up at his balcony with large green eyes, eyes so green that it was like watching two emeralds in backlight.  
A wave of discomfort washed over him as he looked at the harpist and with a purely physical, ephemeral intuition, he understood that it had been her to strike him with the fateful thought.  
 _It had hurt before... but never anything like this...  
_ Every time he came in contact with a new mind, it hurt for a moment or two. It was always like that -the brain creating new mental connections at vampiric speed and modifying itself to accomodate them. The worst wave of pain had come when he'd raised Vorador, for he was his fledgling, and therefore their bond was way stronger than the others. When the man had opened his eyes as a vampire for the first time and their minds had connected, the pain had exploded in his head like the greatest of lightnings, wrapping him in a blinding cloak of white light that had erased everything and everyone for a few seconds.  
But never something like this.  
No, not like this.  
He stared in wonder as she sat in front of her harp, unmoving. She didn't start to play -she just kept gazing at his balcony, waiting.  
 _Why are you here again?_  
Slowly, Janos slid down until he was sitting on the stone floor.  
Five minutes. Then ten. Fifteen. Twenty.  
Janos studied her figure as time slowly passed by. It was high summer, and yet she was wearing a long-sleeved azure tunic. The black crucifix was still around her neck. Around her left ankle -she'd taken her delicate boots off a while prior- he saw a thin silver bracelet that winked in the sun in a thousand sparks. For some reason, that last observation caused a wave of unknown warm feeling to wash over him, almost overwhelming him. He then realized he'd never seen her with her arms bare, even in the hottest day of that summer. It made him even more curious about her, while pain and discomfort slowly subsided.  
Ever so slowly, and yet so quickly, a whole hour passed. And she was still there, unmoving.  
 _Who are you?_  
Just when Janos was beginning to wonder whether she had petrified there, she sighed and turned towards the harp, giving the strings a few tentative plucks. Sweet notes floated in the air.  
And before he knew it, Janos was drumming with his talons on the stone floor on the notes of _Secret Door_ , a tune he liked immensely when it came to music. He'd loved it back when he was just a young man -he could almost hear the singer's ageless voice softly sing the words in his mind...

 _Turn out the lights  
Feed the fire 'til my soul is free  
My heart is high as the waves above me..._

A soft smile had worked its way on his peaceful face. He slowly closed his eyes, resting his head against the wall. The pain was finally gone  
 _(as if your music was a cure, my dear)  
_ and when he opened them again, he found himself staring into deep emerald green orbs as the music, left incomplete, faded in the water's murmur, leaving only silence behind.  
He remained completely still for exactly two seconds. Then, in a blur of ancient robes and black feathers, he pulled himself up and hid back into the shadows he had, Janos realized only then, left.  
 _No! Wait! Come back!_  
The thought did not hurt upon him then. Like when he'd raised Vorador, the first contact had hurt, but the following ones had not.  
He waited, dumfounded and too amazed to move.  
 _How on Nosgoth are you able to Whisper?_  
Janos was too far away to smell her scent, or to hear her heartbeat.  
«I know you hear me! Come back, I've seen you already! PLEASE!»  
But that voice, oh, _that voice_ he heard.  
The voice which had tortured him so badly the day before -he was still processing the fact that he had been unconscious for _a whole day_ \- was now calling out to him, young and lively and oh, the utter joy it brought him. Its cadency was almost of an otherworldly beauty, slightly guttural, gentle, mesmerizing. It reminded him of the night and the stars, of the soft, warm darkness that felt like home and in which he didn't feel anything but infinite peace. He felt a warm feeling blossom in his chest and take hold of his very heart, like the soft caress of a lover.  
«Look... if you're mad at me because I stopped coming, then I'm sorry. It's just that I've been busy. My father-»  
 _I'm not mad, child..._  
She winced and her eyes widened slightly. Janos expected her to start screaming in pain, or cry out in fear and run away again, but, much to his surprise, neither of these reactions came.  
«W-was that you?» she asked hesitantly. Her voice was low, but Janos didn't find it hard to hear her anyway.  
 _Yes, my lady. I can hear your words even if you just think.  
-Like... like this?  
Exactly.  
-This is... amazing.  
_He was talking with the harpist. He was talking with her, and she didn't seem scared in the least. The thought brought a smile to his lips, and the irony and absurdity of it all had her laughing. It was a crystalline, addictive sound, and Janos loved it from the first instant.  
 _-Would you mind stepping into the light? I'd prefer seeing you while we're talking. Please?_  
Janos thought about it for a moment, then decided that no harm would be done if he did just that. After all, she'd seen him already and didn't look particularly inclined to flee. He walked out of the shadows and gracefully sat down on the stone floor of the balcony.  
 _Better?_ , he asked, a light smile in his voice.  
 _-Yes. Thank you._  
He smiled softly. She smiled back at him.  
 _-So..._ , she started. _How to begin a telepathic conversation with a vampire?_  
Janos could hear the playfulness in her voice, and lost himself in the serenity of the whole situation.  
 _Maybe by telling me your name.  
_ He heard her chuckle. _-Nerissa... my name is Nerissa.  
_ Nerissa. The name sounded soft and nicely foreign on his tongue.  
 _Well, nice to meet you, Nerissa. My name is Janos Audron._  
 _-Good afternoon, Lord Audron. You looked quite happy up there. Do you enjoy my music?_  
 _I believe this is the strangest thing anyone has ever told me. And yes, I do enjoy your music. You are very talented, my lady._  
 _-Thank you. You're very kind._  
 _I am merely saying what any other one would have said if they were in my place, child._  
 _-Yes? And yet you are the first one to say something like this._  
 _The people you met weren't terribly polite, then._  
 _-... no, indeed._  
Janos quirked an elegant eyebrow. _Really? I'd assume a beautiful lady like you had many admirers who enjoyed her music.  
-No, not really. But I prefer it that way. I never liked having people around.  
Is this the reason why you came here to play?  
-Yes. I'll admit, I was also curious. They tell many stories about you, Lord Audron, but they never mentioned you liked music.  
Most humans usually assume us vampires are little more than animals. I am glad you do not.  
_The harpist, who now had a beautifully exotic name, fell silent for a few moments. Then her voice resounded again, this time to pose a question.  
 _-How can I communicate with you this way? I am no vampire. My father is human, and my mother was human too._  
 _Was?_  
 _-Yes. She passed away three years after giving birth to me._  
 _I'm sorry to hear that. To answer your previous question, I do not know why you are able to use the Whisper. I am just as surprised as you are._  
 _-Oh._  
 _May I know how old you are, my lady?_  
 _-I'm twenty-six. And please don't call me 'my lady'. It sounds so old._  
Janos smiled to himself.  
They kept talking for what seemed like hours. About Uschtenheim, various places in Nosgoth, the mountains, and, of course, music. It was just so... _natural_ to speak with her. What amazed the ancient vampire to no end was the absolute lack of fear, or fake respect for that matter. It was as if she was speaking to a friend she'd known since forever and not to what the humans depicted as a bloodthirsty monster. She even offered to play a few songs with her harp, offer that was happily accepted.  
By the end of the day, Janos had the clear feeling that the young creature was lonely. Maybe as lonely as he was. And he felt happy about being able to ease that sense of solitude, just as she was soothing his own.  
When she eventually got up to go, Janos rose with her.  
 _-Now I really have to go. God knows what my father will do if I'm not home when he comes back.  
Goodbye then, my la-... Nerissa. Will I see you again?  
-Of course. I could play my harp some more... if you come down from that nest of yours and keep me company, that is._  
Janos thought about it for a moment. What bad could do to spend a little time with her, after all? He'd be close by anyway. If the prophesized saviour decided it was time to show up, he could always go back...  
It sounded so cliché, but he felt he could trust her. Call it a gut feeling. And being the ancient creature he was, his gut feelings were usually right.  
 _Aren't you afraid of me?  
-If I was, would I be talking to you now?  
... point taken. Of course I'll keep you company, child. You won't run away, no?  
-No. No, I will not. I'm looking forward to meeting you again.  
I am, too, my lady. I am, too._  
She put on her long and worn out black mantle. As she walked away, she turned around one last time and waved at him with a cheerful smile.  
He returned the gesture with an equally happy smile of his own, then stood there for a little more, watching her walk away.  
When she disappeared into the woods, Janos retreated back into his chambers. The happiness that was warming his heart had been long since forgotten, and it had been made all the better by the promise of a new encounter.  
As he walked past the fireplace, he noticed that someone -probably one of his adoring servants- had placed a transparent flask and an empty goblet on the dark wooden table that stood beside it. The bottle was full of tempting red liquid.  
Janos stopped in his tracks, once more cursing the Hylden for what they'd done to his race. But the thirst was strong -he hadn't been able to eat for most of the past days. So, he walked carefully towards it, his wings a little bristled, as if that flask was a wild animal and he didn't want to get bitten. Slowly, he took it and took off the cork, pouring a small amount of blood in the golden goblet. Its sweet scent of life hit him like a battering ram, and this time, to both his horror and delight, he wasn't disgusted.  
The blood was dark in the dim light that reigned in the room, so dark that it almost looked black. Dark, living, and still hot.  
He brought the goblet to his lips and took a small sip. The sweet taste flooded his mouth and he swallowed before his body was able to spit it out.  
Janos Audron shut his eyes, waiting for the inevitable wave of nausea. After almost two minutes, he sighed and opened them again.  
That night no nightmares came to trouble his sleep.

. . .

Authoress' note:  
I do not own in any shape or form the characters featured in this story-this also applies to the story's image cover and to the quotes at the beginning of each chapter. I only own my OC and the story's plot.  
The song featured in this chapter is _Secret Door_ by Evanescence, so all credit goes to them.  
Comments please!  
Have a good day/night and love Legacy of Kain!


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

 _Music_  
 _Is love in search for words_

. . .

Nerissa was immersed in the bathtub, trying to disentangle the knots in her hair, when she heard Mary arrive in the other room, sighing while rummaging in the drawers and chests to find the jewels she'd thrown among the silk linen, together with those horrible bone splints of the corset she'd had to wear the last time she'd been forced to participate to one one of those stupid State dinners. Oh, how she hated those dinners. The way she had to sit perfectly still, to hold her head high, to remain silent unless anyone asked for her opinion... all of it just infuriated her. Not to mention that it was probably just another attempt at marrying her off to some rich baron twice as old as her.  
She heard Mary grumble and murmur, probably kneeling, as she fetched her dress shoes from under the bed.  
«What dress do you wish to wear, Nerissa?» the old maid asked, without raising her voice despite her interlocutor being in the other room -she knew Nerissa would have heard her even if she just whispered. That child had always had exceptionally good hearing and sight.  
«You know I don't care. I don't even want to go» she muttered to the soapy water.«»  
She heard the woman grumble again and then Mary entered holding a dress red as the tomatoes one could find at the market. The young woman arched her eyebrows.  
«I won't put on a red dress, Mary» she protested.  
«It's the color of the sunset» the woman retorted.  
«It's the color of the blood.»  
Mary sighed and walked out, taking the dress with her. «You'd look lovely in red, Nerissa, with your green eyes and black hair.»  
The young woman huffed. «You look determined to make people notice me.»  
Mary returned with a silk emerald green dress. «Is this anonymous enough for you, my stubborn child?»  
«Isn't there anything in grey? Or white?»  
Mary became serious. «You'll put on something colourful.»  
Nerissa threw her head back, laughing despite herself. «Who do you think I want to impress?!» she asked, struggling with a particularly difficult tangle. Mary kneeled beside her, immersed her hands in the water and took the lock from Nerissa's hands, patiently beginning to untangle the curls.  
«Not enough people» she said surely.  
Nerissa chuckled. Dear Mary. She knew how Nerissa was and almost everything she did. She knew how the young one abhorred make-up, dresses and any jewels that weren't her black crucifix and silver anklet. And yet she couldn't understand how a woman couldn't care about looking beautiful or having a crowd of admirers. Consequently, whenever her _protegée_ was to join her father in one of his dinners, she always tried to convince her to put on a mask of prettiness that wasn't hers.  
When she finally had untangled all the knots in her air, Nerissa left the bathtub and dried herself with a soft blue towel. Then she got dressed as Mary began to style her hair in an elaborated coiffure.  
«I hate all this» she murmured as she watched helplessly her black locks being braided. «I do not belong here».  
In point of fact, she had sensed the alien feeling of belonging only with two people. All the others had always seemed... _wary_ around her, for the lack of a better word. As if she was something new, a stranger, one could say. A stranger in her own home.  
Mary and Janos had been the only ones she'd ever felt comfortable around. Mary was undestandable. She'd practically raised her. But why him?  
She'd spent the last two days musing about their last encounter. She had discovered she was able to Whisper, and where another person would have been shocked, she had been surprised of the fact that _she was not_. Nerissa had found it natural, just like breathing or blinking. She hadn't had to concentrate to do it, she had just _done_. It was something she found hard to explain even to herself -how something completely new had become a part of her in a matter of seconds.  
And how she'd been even more surprised that talking to him had actually felt _good_. His company had been gladly accepted and appreciated. She hadn't felt vulnerable then, or in danger. She hadn't felt like a prey. She had felt listened to and had listened to him in return.  
A soft smile appeared on her lilac lips as she remembered their conversation and his warm, rich voice in her head. His great black wings. His golden eyes. Oh, how she'd wished she could see him better-  
« _Nerissa!_ »  
Mary's voice snapped her out of her reverie. She must have spaced out for quite a while, because Mary was looking at her with a little worry on her wrinkled visage.  
«Are you alright? You looked completely out of it.»  
«Sorry. My mind must have gone astray.»  
«Your mind does it quite often these days, doesn't it?»  
A faint shade of pink heated Nerissa's normally pale cheeks and her whole body went a little more rigid. «I don't know what you're talking about» she said, stubbornly looking forward.  
Behind her, she heard Mary sigh.  
«At least I hope he's handsome.»

She hated that woman.

In the great dining hall, Abraham sat at the head of a long, massive wooden table, strapped up in precious blue tunics. The table resembled a stage, while three other tables had been placed around to form a square, so that all of his guests would be able to see him clearly.  
Abraham was incredibly tall, with broad shoulders, a thick neck and muscular arms. He had blond hair and icy blue eyes, eyes that could have been shockingly beautiful, but that were devoid of any joy. Those were hard, stern eyes, eyes of a man who was used to command and being obeyed. Eyes that promised atrocious suffering to the ones who had the infelicitous idea of being on his way. Abraham was not unjust, if not with the ones who tried to trick him: then, the responsible really had a reason to fear his eyes.  
During dinners, though, the governor didn't care about instilling fear in his guests. He was arrogant and coarse, and his laughter had the power of making Nerissa terribly cross. She sat rigidly at the table at Abraham's right, looking the man she was supposed to marry straight in the eyes, paying attention closely at what he was saying.  
As she had suspected, her father had offered her hand to one of his neighbour vassals in exchange for a good sum of money and the permission to extend his lordship over a part of the man's lands. Lord Athelstan had accepted the offer, she believed, mainly because being related to the Reinheit family would bring immense prestige and countless privileges.  
Lord Athelstan was tall, lean, had a beautiful visage and was good company. He was nicely entertaining Nerissa with tales of his lands, to which he was very attached, of the farms and the villages. He was nice, but Nerissa couldn't suppress that feeling of foreignness that always permeated her when she was with other people. He must have sensed that distance too, because little by little his tales became just stories told to amuse and not to impress. Nerissa thought that he was as unusual a guest as he was an excellent one: at least he helped her hold back the urge to tear all the hairpins out of her hair.  
«Lord Athelstan, do you have a wife?» she asked, even though she already knew the answer.  
A 'No, my lady' was in fact the reply. «It is the only thing that lacks in my lands.»  
Nerissa nodded. «My father is very unhappy with me, because I do not wish to marry.»  
The man fell silent for a few seconds, then he relaxed on his chair and smiled. «I suppose he's not the only one who's disappointed in this decision, my lady».  
Nerissa grinned. «Lord Athelstan, you're a perfect gentleman.»  
«I really think that, my lady, I didn't say so just to please you.» He chewed on a small piece of meat, then, without drawing the attention of the other guests, he leaned over.  
«My lady, I need to talk with the Alétheia».  
Nerissa froze for a mere moment, then regained her composure just as quickly.  
«Sit back» she ordered. «Act as if we were just chatting, and do not whisper. It draws attention.»  
Lord Athelstan nodded and raised a hand to ask for more wine. «The forest in this time of the year is stunning, my lady. The climate is warm and incredibly pleasant.»  
«I am most happy about it. Is it an information or a request?»  
The man answered while eating the carrots. «Information.» Then he sliced another piece of meat. «Wolves and bears have proven to be a little more restless than usual, though. They have caused trouble in more than one village close to my castle.»  
«I understand» she said, while placing her hand on the knee of the man who sat beside her. His name was Saphrax and was another vassal who had joined the Alétheia when it had first been created. Without diverting his attention from the maiden at his side, he leaned towards Nerissa.  
Speaking to her food, she said: «You know many things, Lord Athelstan. I hope your advice will be useful to Uschtenheim, too.»  
Saphrax would spread the word and that same night they would meet in Nerissa's quarters -not just because they were isolated, but because no servants ever went by.  
She was musing on all of this when the coarse voice of Abraham Reinheit made her freeze in place.  
 _He has done nothing, really, just called your name_ , she tried to reason with herself and her boiling rage.  
But those two words...  
«Nerissa, my child».  
His child.  
How dare he call her his child?! _  
_She breathed in deep. Saphrax, at her side, placed a hand on hers beneath the table. But it was not enough.  
Nerissa rose abruptly from her chair, making the whole hall go silent. Raising her head, she locked gazes with her father as all the guests slowly got up.  
Abrahams' ocean blue eyes burned with rage, but she didn't care.  
«Please, sit» she said gently. «Excuse me.»  
And with that, she turned around and left the table. She forced herself to walk until she'd gotten out of the door, then she started to run.

Tearing the hairpins from her head and letting her hair fall freely down her back, Nerissa kicked her shoes off, deciding she wouldn't put them on again for the remainder of the night. With a growl, she ripped the earrings off and looked at them with a disgusted expression, throwing them in the marble fountain.  
Running a hand in her hair, she let herself fall down onto the mossy ground of the garden, sighing.  
Those damn earrings that scratched her neck, her head hurting because of the hairpins, the fact that she struggled to breathe because of that goddamn corset, those stupid conversation, and then her father... all of that had made her explode. She was surprised that she'd lasted that long.  
She glanced at the fountain, where she assumed her earrings laid, immersed in icy water. She scowled, but then got up with a bitter growl and climbed on the marble. Immersing her feet in the cold water, she let out a relieved sigh. She went to fetch her earrings, but frowned when she didn't find them. She had seen them fall down into the fountain, but maybe the night had played a trick on her and they had landed on the other side of it.  
When she moved to see where the heck they had fallen, though, she couldn't see the damn sparkle of the diamonds anywhere. With a frustrated sigh, she sat at the edge of the fountain. Now the court would interpret in a thousand different ways that gesture of hers.  
Oh well. It wasn't as if they didn't already talk all the time.  
She enjoyed the cold water that brushed her ankles for a while more before she finally decided to get out of the fountain. With renewed force, she collected her shoes and wound the laces around her arms, starting towards the shooting range where archers usually trained. Luckily it was empty and the torches weren't lit.  
Nerissa lighted them up and fetched a random bow and a quiver, choosing some arrows without even looking at them. The targets were already in place and she walked in front of the farthest one.  
She had practiced archery since she was a child, along with playing the harp. It calmed her down and soothed her mind, just like music did -and speaking of which, didn't the arrows that flew in the air have a musicality of their own after all?  
Smiling a little, she pulled an arrow out of the quiver and nocked it, pointing at the bag of sand impaled on the pole in front of her. The arrow hit the target in the head and soon more followed. She had the unreal and extremely satisfying sensation that her arrow had just splitted her father's skull open.  
It felt as if time had accelerated. One moment she had a full quiver, the next she had an empty one and the target looked like a porcupine.  
With a little surprise, Nerissa found that all her arrows had black feathers. Shaking her head, she went fetching them, the sand gushing out of the gashes and flowing to the ground like blood. As she walked back towards her previous spot, she felt a very peculiar and very present sensation. The sensation of being watched.  
She stopped once she'd reached the right distance. As she placed all the arrows back in the quiver and adjusted her grip on the bow, she listened carefully for any sounds that weren't supposed to be there. As none came, she just shrugged it off and then started again, over and over, until the arrows stopped hitting his father and just hit a lifeless bag of sand.

. . .

«As I told lady Nerissa this evening» Lord Athelstan began, «I have information about Vorador and the Sarafan's movements. The knights have caught two of the vampire's fledglings, and he clearly did not appreciate that, judging by the way he slaughtered half of Nachtholm's inhabitants. After that, the knights have graciously -and very intelligently, if you allow me- decided to take their rage out on the poor things in their keep, who are now reduced to bloody pulps in the cages that host them. They will arrive in Uschtenheim in two weeks, since Moebius ordered their public execution, and the Time Streamer himself will attend the show.»  
«If Moebius enters in Uschtenheim, it will be our ruin» Lord Saphrax hissed. «Vorador and his vampires will attack just to try and kill him».  
«We can't stop a whole horde of vampires from attacking» one of Abraham's counsellor, Eren, said. «Vorador alone would be nearly impossible to defeat, not to mention all the blood-crazed fledglings he keeps around.»  
«We have to give him no more reason to attack» Nerissa murmured. The sixteen people in the room turned to the founder of the Alétheia. «If we free the fledglings the Sarafan have imprisoned, and manage to send him a message through them...»  
«They'll kill us» Jean sentenced. He was a sentinel and one of the latest people that had joined the web of spies. «They are young and cannot control their thirst. The ones who go and free them are the ones who die first, and then all the others will follow.»  
«We can play the card of their youth. Vorador is ancient, he would never trust a human, but they are young and can be persuaded» Nerissa argued. «If they return home safely and bring the news that humans in Uschtenheim are interested in stopping the war, Vorador will surely be taken aback. The chances are that we find an ally in one of the most powerful creatures ever existed on Nosgoth.»  
The Alétheia members began murmuring with each other at that. What Nerissa had said was true -young vampires would trust a human way more easily than an ancient one. And if they succeeded, the benefits they would gain would be immense.  
«Do you lack all reason, woman?!» Jean shrieked. «Do you not know what that vampire is capable of? He's merciless, cruel beyond any imagination, and two stupid fledglings won't be the thing that will change that.»  
«What do you suggest we do? Sit idly by and wait for them to kill us all?» she snapped. «We should at least try, don't you think?»  
«You speak of trying? Alright. So, who are you going to send to free those vampires, huh? Who are you going to send to their death? You only talk like this because you know you'll never go and risk your life for this goddamn cause» Jean accused her.  
Nerissa froze instantly, a rage she'd never known before beginning to bubble up in her chest. The Alétheia members turned to her, waiting for her answer. The silence was so pure, one could have heard a feather hit the ground.  
Nerissa's lips were reduced to a thin lilac line. Her eyes were narrowed and her hands clutched at the table as if to break it in two.  
«You accuse me of cowardice?» she hissed. The deadly calm in her voice would have made a vampire shake with fear.  
Jean gulped, without answering.  
«I'll show you who's the coward. I'll go free the fledglings myself with another volunteer of the Alétheia. And if there's no one who's willing, I'll go alone.»  
A low murmur spread through the people in the room, but it was in a matter of minutes that the volunteer was found. Thomas, one of the few friends she had in the court, would have never let her down.  
Nerissa smiled brightly at the guard, gratitude flooding her chest. «Thank you, Thomas. I knew I could count on you» she said gratefully.  
«You can always count on me» the guard responded, smiling back.  
«Nerissa, are you sure you want to do this?» Lord Saphrax asked. «It is dangerous. You're the governor's daughter. If you die, we're all in some deep trouble.»  
Nerissa knew that. But she also knew that she could do it. She didn't knew where all that confidence came from -she was just a mere woman, and a young one at that. But she would have thrown her hands on a blade for their cause, and compared to the war that they were trying to stop, two fledglings didn't sound a big deal at all.  
«I will not die. If the situation gets too prickly, we'll come back.»  
«Besides, she's with me» Thomas piped up. «I would never let anything bad happen to her».  
Saphrax didn't look convinced, but Lord Athelstan cut in. «Then it's decided. Nerissa and Thomas will go free the fledglings and give them a message for their Sire. We'll have to write it in a way that we don't uncover ourselves too much. In the meantime, we'll attempt to prevent Moebius from coming to Uschtenheim.»  
Jean protested, but his cries fell on deaf ears as the group began to discuss the details of their latest mission. After a while, he just gave up as the atmosphere began to relax and the formal discussions gave way to tales and stories of the barons reunited in the room.  
The members of the Alétheia began leaving well past midnight, one by one and using the hidden passages so that servants or guards wouldn't see or hear them. When finally she was alone in her quarters, Nerissa began extinguishing the flames of the torches.  
She had been reckless, she realized it now. In her anger and self-confidence, she hadn't fully processed that she would have to approach two vampires fully transformed, even if they were young. A pang of fear and apprehension began biting at her.  
As she blew the last torch out, she caught a glimpse of her own arm, outstretched and raised to grip the metal bar that kept the torch attached to the wall. The room was flooded by darkness and the sight of the scar was devoured by the dark.  
She stood there, immersed in the night. No vampire could cause her such pain, not even Vorador, so what did she have to be afraid of? She had nothing to lose.  
Smiling bitterly, she turned around and left the room.  
As she opened her bedroom's door, a breeze of warm wind, scented of summer, hit her. The torches were lit and the large window was open.  
 _I had closed it. I had closed it before going to that dinner. And I had blown the torches out._  
It could always have been Mary. Maybe she'd come there to make her bed or to tidy her room or something and had forgotten to close the window.  
No. Mary never forgot to close the windows. She had never forgotten to do so, not even once, and Nerissa had known her for sixteen years.  
Maybe she had opened it and she had forgot. Yes, that was probably how it went.  
Smiling at her own apprehension, she walked to it and closed the window. As she bent to grab the soft tunic she used to sleep, her eyes were caught by a blinding sparkle on the bed.  
Her surprise was immense when she saw her diamond earrings, shining on the dark green pillow in the burning light of the torches.  
Carefully folded beneath the jewels, a small piece of paper.  
Utterly speechless, Nerissa took it.

 _I hope you do not mind if I fetched them for you. I believe that if they were to be found by a servant, they would have gossiped about that gesture for weeks. I should know._  
 _Yours sincerely,  
J. _

_PS: you looked stunning tonight, my dear. May I remark that your archery skills are impeccable?_

. . .

Authoress' note:  
I do not own in any shape or form the characters featured in this story-this also applies to the story's image cover and to the quotes at the beginning of each chapter. I only own my OC and the story's plot.  
Comments please!  
Have a good day/night and love Legacy of Kain!


	6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

 _Where words fail,  
Music speaks._

. . .

 _What on Nosgoth was I thinking?!_  
Janos' wings bristled as he paced back and forth in his study. What if she'd found his gesture creepy? What if it had made it look like he'd been stalking her the whole time, which he had _not._ What if she began to feel threatened by him? God, he'd been so stupid.  
 _Now don't get your feathers in a twist. Maybe she appreciated it._  
He'd just wanted to cheer her up a bit after all. She'd looked so furious that evening that he'd felt the urge to calm her down, thing that he'd never done for anyone but Vorador, but he would be lying if he said he hadn't found her rage appealing.  
Oh, she'd looked so incredibly _beautiful_ in that green dress of hers. With her black curls falling wildly about her back and her astonishing green eyes burning with anger, she had looked like a shockingly wonderful warrior angel, especially when she'd been firing arrows at those targets. He'd found himself entranced with her movements, and with how her anger had gradually subsided as the arrows hit the sand bag.  
He knew that she'd noticed his presence. He'd known from the moment she'd gone fetching her arrows. The way she had walked and fumbled with the bow -imperceptibly, deliberately slower than before, changes so slight that even he, vampire as he was, had hardly noticed them... those little acts, insignificant as they were, had shown him just how sharp her senses were.  
If only she could have seen his expression at her behavior, she would have seen the most shocked face he'd ever made. She shouldn't have been able to hear him, but then again, wasn't she the first human Janos had ever met who could Whisper?  
That discover had been welcomed with different emotions though. That had been kind of _expected_ -he wasn't shure how to describe that peculiar feeling. He'd found it naturalthat she could. The _real_ surprise had come later, when he'd fully processed the fact that she was _mortal_.  
 _And this, Janos, is the proof that you're going insane._  
He was actually beginning to wonder whether all of that had been a creation of his own mind, something that would fall apart into ashes once he reached out for it. His kind was little designed for solitude, after all. He couldn't completely exclude the chance of himself going insane because of it.  
But then again, a crazy person doesn't know they're crazy. They believe themselves completely sane. So if Janos questioned his own sanity, wouldn't that mean he was sane?  
He shook his head. His mind was more contorted than usual today, and his musings weren't helping him chilling out at all.  
He looked out of his balcony. It was late afternoon, the sun shining and warming the earth beneath, but if one knew how to look, they could see the first signs of the impending dusk. It was high time he got ready -Nerissa was to come to visit today, and he wanted to look decent when she did.  
 _If she does_ , the small voice in his head corrected him.  
But for the first time in centuries, he was devoid of doubts.

. . .

Nerissa peered out of her room. As usual, there was no one, and for the first time in years she was happy with being alone.  
She'd been waiting for that day to come for a whole week and she didn't want anyone to ruin it.  
With the most silent footsteps, she bolted through the corridor before anyone decided to bother her with stupid mundane issues. She was in front of the statue in a matter of seconds, and then she was surrounded by the darkness that inhabited inside it.  
The journey through the hidden passage passed in a blur. Her body knew by instinct where to go and she let it take control, at least for a little bit, as her mind drifted away.  
When she went out into the city, however, she turned back to her usual wary self. There were more guards than usual, as a result of Vorador's fledglings and Moebius' imminent arrival. Nerissa allowed a small smile to stretch her lips. Thanks to the Alétheia, their presence would soon be superfluous.  
She ghosted among the people like a dark spirit, cloaked in her black mantle, ignoring the noises and the loud voices. It was market day and the streets were flooded with people and peddlers who decanted the dubious qualities of their products. Nerissa shuddered. Crowds made her uneasy, set her on edge -too much noise, people who touched her from everywhere, stench of sweat, filth and metal- all of that almost made it hard for her to breathe. Made her feel _dirty_ for some reason. And the way people occluded the streets... it was infuriating.  
With an annoyed huff, she walked through the crowd with something that anyone would have defined 'gracefulness', and that she called 'knowing when to take advantage of the gaps among people'. She'd found herself in that same situation many times before after all, and she'd learned how to avoid getting stuck in a throng, but this was the first time she'd wanted to get out of Uschtenheim so quickly.  
However, it was only a good fifteen minutes later that she finally did.  
She looked back, making sure that no one was following her. Nerissa didn't want to be the one to lead the Sarafan where Janos lived. She knew that they still groped in the dark trying to find him, having dismissed his retreat as some old, abandoned building of the Ancients.  
Smiling quietly to herself, she walked out of the town and into the woods, following one of the paths through the forest. She would abandon it later, when she was sure the city and its inhabitants were no longer in sight.

. . .

Janos had made sure he'd drunk his fill before gliding down his Aerie. Now that she was close, he was glad he'd had the idea.  
Her scent was one of the most intoxicating Janos had ever smelled. She scented like irises and peach flowers, all of it brought together with a faint smell of summer wind. A bouquet that would have immediately triggered Janos' thirst hadn't he prevented all of it.  
But there was also something else in that scent. Something so subtle that even he hardly noticed it. A touch of ice, of something cold and dark that reminded the vampire of nothing but one thing.  
The realization had him frozen on the spot, which was probably a good thing, seeing as Nerissa visibly relaxed at his lack of movement. Now that she was closer, Janos could admire her in her full beauty.  
She stood a scarce twenty feet from him, black mantle tossed over an arm and expression cautious. She was a whole head shorter than him, with a slender, lithe figure swaddled in a V-necked electric blue mermaid dress, one with long sleeves despite the heat. He could see the fine shadows her cheekbones casted on her cheeks, her smooth jawline, the perfect arch of her bow shaped lips. Her eyes sparkled beneath her impossibly long eyelashes, shining green while still showing a million different colors. It was as though those eyes had absorbed all the colors on Nosgoth to throw them in the black pit that was her pupil, just so that they could gaze at him from the darkness, coloring her emotions.  
And he knew what he was seeing.  
«Are you afraid?» he murmured, not daring to move an inch.  
Nerissa slowly took a step forward, watching him with those stunning eyes of hers.  
«I would lie if I said I wasn't» she said lowly. «But... I'm not terrified. I just need a little time, I think.»  
Janos nodded in understanding. He'd expected that -this proximity made him a little uneasy too. «It's... something else, I suppose».  
Nerissa nodded, never breaking eye contact. «It goes against all we've faced for years».  
«But it's not entirely... _alien._ »  
«No. It is not.»  
It was like they were completing each other's thoughts.  
«Are _you_ afraid?» she asked suddenly.  
The vampire froze at that. He was agitated, but fear? What fear did he have to feel?  
He knew she wasn't referring to a fear that was purely physical -the fear of physical hurt and pain. A vampire could easily cope with that, and she obviously was in no condition that could have allowed her to cause harm. It was the emotional, spiritual fear, the fear of being harmed emotionally, that she was speaking of.  
And that he did fear, even if he didn't yet know why.  
«I am» he murmured, and he didn't know if he was answering her or his own thoughts.  
Nerissa smiled softly and he knew the ice was broken.  
«Then hopefully we can chase away each other's fears» she said sweetly, placing her black cloak carelessly on the branch of a nearby tree. Janos noticed that she'd turned her back to him, a silent, and probably unconscious, display of trust.  
Then she turned, and his mind was once more captive of her eyes -liquid emeralds that glinted with hidden smiles.  
«Hi» she said simply, her behavior now back to normal, without any hesitation or uncertainty. Pleased with this turn of events, despite the surprise, Janos smiled.  
«Hi» he answered, marveling at how low and soft her voice sounded, with that hint of guttural tone that made it absolutely mesmerizing.  
«Thank you for the earrings» she said, returning the smile. «And... for the compliments, I guess. You didn't have to.»  
«You're welcome, child. I had never seen anyone shoot arrows like that. You practice a lot, is it not?»  
Her smile widened, her eyes sparkling. «I've been doing so since I was but a little girl. Some say I was born with a bow in my hands» she chuckled.  
«You sure looked like you have» Janos said warmly. «Perhaps you would care to walk with me?»  
«As long as we don't get lost» she answered, approaching him.  
Janos inhaled her scent again and found it more bearable already. Perhaps that icy touch of immortality, the ice and darkness he smelled every time he was with another of his people, was preventing the bloodfury.  
She was human.  
How could a human possess the scent of a vampire?  
They removed themselves from the lake, Nerissa switching places so that she could walk between him and the acidic water. Such a strange pair, had anyone seen them: the most ancient vampire on all of Nosgoth and a young human maiden, little more than a child in the eyes of many. But who were they to care?  
While they walked, Janos' opinions on her began to actually shape in the idea of her being something apart from the rest of humanity. Nerissa was different from the humans he was used to seeing and hunting, a present enough difference that the distinction had began to grow even if he had never talked to her, back during the month she'd played her harp without knowing of him. Now that they were so close, now that they could share both beautiful similarities and charming differences, with the distinction came a curiosity about her that couldn't be satisfied with mere observations about the mountains.  
He looked into her eyes and saw them glinting with matching inquisitiveness.  
«What's your favourite color?» she asked with naturalness.  
The question surprised him with its semplicity. And for the first of many times to come, he did not see the event as a meeting between a vampire and a human, but between two souls that wanted to know more about each other.  
«Green» he said with no hesitation. «Yours?»  
«It's gold. It makes me... warm.»  
«Strange description for a color.»  
«Everything is strange in its own way, I believe. Us first. Just look at this.»  
Janos chuckled. «You're right on that.»  
«How old are you? You never told me.»  
«I... stopped aging at thirty-five. It has been almost two millenia since that day.»  
Her expression saddened and then her eyes glinted again. «Well, the years haven't taken their toll on your good looks, at least».  
The vampire laughed.  
They went on like this, mostly innocent and discreet curiosities, until Nerissa asked him to talk about the countless places he'd seen in Nosgoth. When he mentioned the sea, her eyes became immense.  
«I have never seen the sea» she murmured. «My father never allowed me to leave Uschtenheim».  
«Would you like me to tell you about it?»  
Her eyes sparkled and her smile was answer enough. And so he described it. He described the sea as he saw it everyday when he was still a young child, and the Hylden a distant threat. He remembered how the water used to burn when the sun set, silhouetted in the distance like a great red discus, dyeing the water with red, orange, yellow, pink and purple. From the great balconies of House Audron, Janos had smelt the scent of the marine breeze, heard the sound of the infinite waves crashing on the rocky cliff the fortress had been built on. The voice of the ocean a constant company, he remembered how the sky felt different when flying over the uproarious waters.  
Nerissa listened, enraptured, as his words painted images of infinite beauty in her mind. Intense longing bled into his tone and she understood how the mountains must seem cold and silent to him, after a life spent by the sea.  
«I'm sorry» she whispered. «I didn't know you-».  
Janos smiled softly. «You don't need to apologize» he said, gently hushing her. «It has been too long since I allowed myself to remember. It feels good after all this time».  
The small smile he got in return could put the stars to shame and his heartbeat sped up. He couldn't look away -the way her pale skin was shadowed by the trees, her beautiful black curls cascading about her shoulders, her perfectly shaped lilac lips...  
«Then you don't mind if...?»  
«Of course not. What do you want to know, child?»  
«Well... is it true that the cities of the Ancients were built on clifftops? And that wingless people had to be hoisted up with ropes?»  
Janos smiled in amusement. «Many of our cities were built like that, but only Ravernia had the ropes. Those were usually used only to hoist great loads up. Wingless beings usually preferred the stairs -a long, curved flight of steps carved in the cliff itself.»  
«How did the ropes work?» she asked curiously.  
«It's easy, in truth. A pole with a wooden wheel was placed horizontally by the edge of the clifftop, with the ropes attached to its base. The ropes themselves were trended from the wheel to the ground at the cliff's feet, where the platforms hung. Horses were used to turn the wheel and as it moved, so did the platforms.»  
«But why did you build your cities so high up?» she asked, brushing her hand over the mossy ground, and Janos suddenly noticed that they had stopped walking and had settled on the ground. How long they had been there, he didn't know. He just knew that it had been wonderful.  
«Because it's lovely, I guess».  
She nodded in agreement and Janos let his eyes glaze over her marble skin and full lips. The sight of those made him remember something.  
«Your lips... is the lilac color natural?» he asked.  
Nerissa shifted on the grass with a light sigh. «Yes. They have always been like that, for all I know.»  
«They are... unusual. They suit you.»  
«Are you implying that I'm weird?» she asked, arching an eyebrow with feigned annoyance.  
«Without any doubt» he said, and they both laughed. And when silence came, it was a silence without embarrassment that enfolded them like a soft muffled cloak.  
The sun was red in the distance, painting the sunset sky golden and purple.  
Nerissa turned her head in his direction and he saw the displeasure in her eyes.  
«It's late» she whispered reluctantly. «I have to go».  
«I could accompany you back to the lake» he said, without hiding his regret. «If you'd like».  
She smiled. «That would be wonderful».  
The journey back to the lake was silent, but neither of them felt uncomfortable. When they stopped in the shadows of his Aerie, she asked one last question.  
«Can vampires hypnotize people with their eyes alone?» she murmured.  
Surprised, as it was the first question about vampirism that came from her lips, he shook his head. «Your mind remains yours and yours alone in my presence, Nerissa» he answered, her name rolling off his tongue in sweet, soft sounds, entirely different from the hissing noise of many.  
A small smile graced her face. «I thought you did that on purpose. Enchant me with your eyes to read my thoughts better.»  
His heart was racing. He was sure she could hear it even covering her ears with her hands.  
«They look like two burning lights» she whispered, inching imperceptibly closer. «They don't even look real».  
Her eyes were shining brightly, darker than usual in the sunset's light. He could have gazed into those eyes forever, losing himself in their emerald beauty.  
«I wonder how can't you notice that your eyes enchant me, just like mine attract you» she concluded, her voice low.  
He was sure his heart was trying to escape from his chest. Suddenly he felt warmth spread in his breast.  
«Both humans and vampires usually avoid my gaze» he murmured. «It scares them to death».  
She smiled a little. «Yes, it happens to me too. Our eyes are too strange.»  
«Why do people avoid your eyes?»  
«They make them uncomfortable. Apparently my eyes burn.»  
Oh yes, they burned, but it was the kind of burn that made one want to throw themselves onto the pyre, embracing the flames, letting the fire inside.  
«They're beautiful» whispered Janos, and Nerissa immediately felt warmer beneath that lukewarm sun that immersed her in light, passing through the trees' fronds.  
«Yours are, too».  
Janos gave a small smile.  
«Will I see you again?» she asked.  
His heart skipped a beat.  
«If you'd have me».  
«I would» she whispered.  
And suddenly his fingers were brushing her cheek, a fleeting touch, barely there, that left them both trembling. For a moment she froze and Janos worried he'd gone too far, but Nerissa smiled, and his preoccupation melted away.  
They parted without any further words, Nerissa going back into the forest from which she'd emerged and Janos leaping skywards to return to his retreat. Before he landed on his balcony, he was sure he'd seen her turn around one last time, watching as he flew.

. . .

When Nerissa closed the doors of her apartments behind her back, a dreamy smile was gracing her beautiful features.  
The past hours had been... incredible? Wonderful? How could she even begin to describe them? Words were failing her, none was suitable to describe just how perfect those brief moments had been. She couldn't get rid of the warm feeling in her chest, nor could she will her body to stop feeling so tingly, or her heart to stop racing. When he'd told her that her eyes were beautiful... she'd felt her heart leap in her throat and hammer wildly, filling her with a deep sense of happiness. She wondered just how could people think of Janos as a monster. How could they prefer imaginary white-winged angels to this warm reality?  
His bearing had been naturally composed, almost involountarily majestic, not curved nor weakened by the centuries, by meditation, by fatigue. All of his features suggested the habit of solemn and benevolent thoughts, an inner peace of a long life and of a hope undermined but not extinct. A piercing golden gaze, one that could be found in someone used to recognise the thoughts just by looking at people's faces. Eyes like molten gold, with tiny flecks of silver threading like balefire in his irises.  
Nerissa sat on the stool by her desk, fetching the small piece of paper Janos had left her a week before. His handwriting was as graceful as he was, thin, elegant, slightly curved on one side, as though the letters would fall at the slightest blow of the wind. It had been a sweet gesture, one he could have perfectly avoided, since she hadn't seen him, not to mention that coming so close to where Uschtenheim's governor lived was dangerous. But he'd done it nonetheless, and Nerissa had a feeling that he didn't knew just how much it meant to her. That someone like him, who had suffered untold agonies because of the humans, would do something kind for one he'd barely met... she would have never believed it before.  
Ever since her mother's death, her presence in Uschtenheim's court had become inconvenient and unwanted. It was mainly because many blamed on her Alexandra's death -saying that it had been her physical appearance, so similar to that of a vampire, that had made the beautiful woman fall ill. The court talked, it always had and always would, but when Alexandra had given birth to her, the servants had started to gossip about that small child with unnaturally pale skin, lilac lips and burning green eyes. They had begun to believe that due to the governor's successes in the battlefield against vampires, the demons had taken their revenge out on the child that would be born in a few months, cursing her with vampiric looks. And when Alexandra had seen her face for the first time, the stories said she'd cried out in horror and disgust -what should have been a beautiful child, a little monster instead. And the sorrow and desperation had led Alexandra down the path that had brought her to her death, killed by the hands of a vampire.  
When the governor's wife had died, the court had left her behind. In the clutches of a man that should have been her father, but that hadn't anything like fatherhood in him. Quite the contrary, actually.  
For a soul like that, to be shown kindness without ulterior motives was a very potent drug.  
 _I owe you more than I shall ever be able to repay, Janos...  
_ «You're back, finally. I was wondering where you'd disappeared.»  
Her heart stopped beating. Green eyes widened.  
 _(why)_  
«I was going to send a search party for you» Abraham said, closing the doors behind himself. «But you spared me this annoying task. Thank you.»

. . .

Authoress' note:  
A special thank you and a big hug to Razieletta95, who reviewed first :3 It means a lot to me, thank you so much! :)

I feel as if something is off with this chapter, but I can't quite put my finger on it. If anyone notices what it is, please report it in the reviews, along with any grammar/syntactic mistakes I may have made.  
I do not own in any shape or form the characters featured in this story-this also applies to the story's image cover and to the quotes at the beginning of each chapter. I only own my OC and the story's plot.  
Comments please!  
Have a good day/night and love Legacy of Kain!


	7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

 _After silence,  
That which comes near  
To expressing the inexpressible  
Is music._

. . .

Nerissa took the last shard of glass out, gritting her teeth to hold in a hiss of pain. She let it fall in the overflowing bowl, shuddering violently in the warm air of her room.  
She left the bowl of bloodied splinters where it was, on the edge of the washbasing in her private bathroom. It was almost admirable, how her father always found new ways to torture her. One would assume that after twenty-two years, he'd run out of ideas.  
But of course not. Her usual luck.  
In pained silence, she dragged herself to her bed and collapsed there, careful not to land on her back. The whiplashes still burned and bled beneath the bandages, adding fifty new marks to her collection of scars.  
Ignoring Mary's frantic calls behind the locked door, Nerissa saw the edges of her vision going black.  
 _Don't fall asleep.  
Don't fall asleep.  
By the Gods don't fall asleep.  
Don't fall asleep and you will not die.  
Never sleep never die._  
She passed out.

Nerissa had come home late in the evening. When Abraham was finished with her, and Mary managed to get into the room, it was the dead of the night.  
The old maid didn't make a sound at what she saw. Her dread was too great to find their way out of her throat.  
 _My little sunshine..._  
Her little sunshine laid on the bed, the silken sheets partially covering her form. Her powerful back was bare, but she could have been wearing a skin-tight shirt for all the skin that was visible: white bandages covered her porcelain flesh, soaked with the crimson that stained the covers.  
Mary went up to her, deathly pale, wide-eyed, concerned to the point of snapping. Nerissa's hands were gripping the pillow -the covers falling back to reveal her white, beautifully muscular arms. Trembling with agony and unvoiced rage, Mary saw the thousand long cuts that had been added to her countless scars.  
One of those cuts drew her attention -and this time Mary did gasp aloud, for a tiny shard of glass was protruding from her flesh, bloody, transparent, cruelly mocking.  
 _Oh, dear God... oh, Nerissa, my lovely child..._  
With a careful hand, Mary pulled the splinter out, begging to whatever God there was in Nosgoth to let Nerissa sleep, for as she slept, she couldn't feel pain. As she turned to throw it away, her gaze fell on the bathroom's door, which had been left open.  
When she went to close it, she saw the bowl.  
Blood pooled on its bottom. Bloodied shards winking at her with untold tortures.  
A hand flying to her mouth, eyes widened beyond what was believed to be possible, Mary shook violently, feeling the strenght abandon her. Never before had he pushed himself so far... never before she'd seen such raw cruelty.  
 _Oh God, why? It wasn't her fault. It was never her fault. Please spare her this suffering...  
_ Tears welling up in her eyes, eyes that had seen way too much pain, Mary sat on the edge of the bed, taking Nerissa's hand in hers.  
Abraham had already taken the culpables' lives, if one could speak of fault. He was not a very... affectionate man, and he'd proven it countless times already, both to is daughter and his long since dead wife. But Nerissa's existence wasn't her fault. Alexandra and Gabriel had hoped to raise her together until the end.  
But that had perhaps been too much to ask.  
Abraham had discovered Alexandra's adultery at a feast. Lord Moebius had come to visit and bless the city, to prevent any more vampire attacks. Of course, the court had gone into raptures. As the feast went on, young, beautiful queen Alexandra had taken her daughter away from the crowd and from the Time Streamer's insistent eyes. She had met with Gabriel, one of the best soldiers that had been assigned to her bodyguard and her lover, and they had begun to talk. They were happy. They loved each other and had a beautiful daughter to prove it to all of Nosgoth. Even Vorador himself, cruel as he was, could have never shrugged their relationship off as mere lust and carnal desires.  
Abraham was simply passing by. But he'd seen them.  
He'd seen Gabriel Graves' stunning green eyes.  
And then had seen the same eyes -eyes that looked like molten emeralds, eyes that burned like beautiful flames- replicated in Nerissa's perfect little visage.  
Needless to say that he'd taken his vengeance.  
Gabriel and Alexandra were buried hotfoot, their gruesome deaths passed off as vampire attacks. More of the creatures had died to avenge souls they hadn't taken.  
But when it had come to harm the child, his hand had faltered.  
It would have been so simple. Nerissa, a mere child at the time, was lying in her mother's bed, sleeping. The dagger was already high in the air.  
 _(whiteskinpalelimbsgreeneyespainedscreams)_  
He'd kept her.  
And she'd paid the price of her mother's betrayal.  
Mary closed her eyes. It had been so long since she'd allowed herself to remember, and now, again, she understood why.  
Like all the cruelest sufferings, it had started out slowly.  
Abraham getting angry when Nerissa was happy.  
Sudden and violent outbursts.  
Unprovoked reprimands.  
The first hit. The mad light in his eyes when he'd seen her burst out in tears.  
Blows.  
Punches.  
Kicks.  
Broken bones.  
 _(oh Nerissa Nerissa your arm your poor little arm)_  
Whips.  
The first scar.  
And more had come.  
Mary squeezed Nerissa's hand.  
She didn't respond.

When Nerissa came to, the first sensation she registered was a strong scent of chamomile. The second was a sharp sting in her eyes when she tried to open them. The third was the burning pain that lapped at her body.  
Any other maiden would have been screaming in pain by then. Hell, even grown men would have. All that she let out was a long exhale.  
«How long did I sleep?» she murmured.  
«Sixteen hours» came Mary's sweet voice, along with a soft caress on her head.  
«Anything happened that I should know?»  
Of course. No matter the pain she was in, she never missed a beat.  
«Vorador's fledglings will arrive today. They are to be executed tomorrow at dawn.»  
Nerissa growled and pushed herself up on her arms. Pain cried out in her body and she ignored it.  
«Careful, little one» Mary whispered, and gentle hands supported her as she sat up. A cup of chamomile was gently pushed in her hands.  
«I don't want to sleep» Nerissa whispered, eyeing the golden liquid -with something that could have been _fear_...  
Mary understood without needing further explanation. «The river?»  
Nerissa nodded slowly.  
She'd never forgotten. Never had, never would.  
«Drink» Mary murmured, comforting. «There are painkillers in it».  
«Painkillers won't chase away the nightmares» Nerissa murmured bitterly, even though she brought the cup to her lips and took a small sip of the hot liquid. It burned her tongue and throat, so much that she couldn't even feel the taste of it, but she didn't care.  
«Moebius?» she asked, locking gazes with Mary.  
«The Alétheia were not able to prevent him from coming here, but they delayed his arrival. He'll be here only tonight.»  
Nerissa looked out of the window and her eyes widened.  
So late already...  
«I have to go» she said abruptly, setting the barely-touched cup aside. Mary followed her movements with wide-eyed, terrified resignation.  
«Nerissa, you can barely move! You cannot cope with vampires in your condition!»  
Resigned she may be, but it wouldn't hurt to try and convince her little child to give up that mad scheme of hers.  
Of course, she didn't listen.  
She was up and dressed before the old nursemaid could say anything more, and a blur of dark mantles she was out of the door, leaving a horrified Mary behind.  
And the maid could not help but feel dread, as if something horrible was about to happen.

. . .

«They will never make it» Thomas whispered, and as much as she wanted to disagree, Nerissa found herself unable to do so.  
The two fledglings were both shaking, whether in fear or in cold, they couldn't tell. Covered from head to toe in bruises, water burns and slashes, they were curled up close in their cage, bodies bloodied with wounds that couldn't yet heal themselves.  
From the larger one's knees -a muscular creature with dark hair and white skin, sharp features and hopeless eyes- broken bones were jutting out, as if someone had torn them apart and ripped kneecap, femur and tibia out. His right arm was bent at such an unnatural angle that both humans almost gagged. His left hand -the hand of someone who was terribly young, for it had five fingers still- had been splitted open with some tool that had become a makeshift torture device, and now hung useless and bleeding at the vampire's side, splitted in two sections as if the Sarafan had wanted to create a macabre mimicry of what his hand would become.  
The smaller one, shorter and thinner than the other, with blonde hair and pale skin, was in even worse condition. He looked like water had been poured on him multiple times, burns marring almost every inch of his skin. Wrists and ankles chained, face swollen, he was nothing more than a bloody mass of torn flesh and broken bones. His eyes were covered by a tattered rag, and Nerissa didn't need to pull it off to understand that they had been ripped out. Judging by the scold's bridle around his head, his tongue would soon be, too.  
Rendered unable to move by horror, both Nerissa and Thomas watched helplessly as the two fledglings were carried into Uschtenheim. A whole wing of the dungeons had been emptied so that they could be thrown there, far away from each other, without any humans to feed from were they to escape. Not that they could -one blind, the other legless, they couldn't really go very far.  
«We've underestimated the damage» Thomas said grimly. «They'll need a lot more blood than expected to recover».  
Nerissa pursed her lips. In those circumstances, were she to be healthy, she would have offered her own blood to help. The thought wasn't very pleasant, of course, but she would have done so, and gladly, to gain as powerful an ally as Vorador. How could she though? Abraham's _attentions_ had left her weak, exhausted despite the many hours she'd slept away. She could not help them, not with blood. Her hands tightened into fists at her sides.  
«So young and so much pain they've taken already...»  
«I know, but we can't do nothing about it. We can only spare them further suffering.»  
She nodded. «They won't be able to walk. This-»  
«It's a chance lord Athelstan has foreseen. He's planned to leave this evening, so that we may use his carriage to hide the fledglings and take them out of Uschtenheim should we need it. The only danger is that, if we do need to do so, we will probably meet with Moebius' carriage, which will come from the opposite direction. And we will also need to go through the main gates, and they'll pullulate with soldiers... but we could always kill them bef-»  
«Stop right there. I never spoke of killing» Nerissa interrupted him.  
Thomas sighed. «Look, I'm uncomfortable with it too, but what if there's no choice?»  
«We will kill if we need it. I will not allow the Alétheia to run around like madmen slaying everything they come across. If there's no other choice, then so be it, _but only if there's no other choice_ » she said, in a tone that didn't allow any replies. Then, more calmly, she said: «We'll have to use lord Athelstan's saw how badly they are wounded; they'll never be able to walk out of town without getting someone suspicious».  
Thomas nodded in agreement, even if a little spited by her definitive tone, and gently pushed her to walk away. They had seen what they'd come there to see, their presence was not needed there anymore.  
Understanding without words, she followed him down the large oak tree on which they had climbed to spy on the Sarafan. The branches and foliage had concealed them perfectly from the soldiers' keen eyes.  
They used her hidden underground passage to sneak back into the fortress. As they walked, bending forward not to hit the low ceiling with the head, she spoke again.  
«How many are we?» she asked.  
«After your outburst with Jean, five other men have decided to join us. They must have felt piqued, that a woman and a boy would do what they didn't have the courage to do» he answered, unable to contain the amusement in his voice. «Athelstan too has decided to come, though he has because it will speed the operation up if he's already there when we arrive with the vampires.»  
Nerissa nodded, satisfied. She would have never expected to get so many followers in her private crusade, and she was happy she was not alone in this.  
But as they walked, satisfaction quickly dissipated, giving way to a cold, nagging feeling that at the back of their minds -an unpleasant presentiment that made them both shiver in the innermost parts of them, primal and animalistic.

. . .

When Thomas and four other soldiers entered in the dungeons, the smell of blood was suffocating, and the sound of pained wails overwhelming. The hoarse laugh of the other guards echoed in the empy space, as did the sound of whips cracking in the air.  
He knew the governor had ordered for the vampires not to be tortured until dawn, in fear that they might die before the public execution, and he also knew that the captain of the guard was there to assure that his orders were followed. But, perhaps, he had found it more pleasant a pastime to ignore them.  
«Come» he whispered to his men, who followed in silence and sickened expectation.  
The two fledglings had been confined to the very last cells of the dungeon, one on either side of the dark corridor so that each may watch what suffering the other was being put through. The one whose eyes had been ripped out was now watching with horror in his blue orbs, chained to the wall, laments muffled by the scold's bridle he still wore, and Thomas understood that they had poured blood into his eye sockets so that his body had been able to replace its lost parts.  
The five men of the previous watch were leaning on the wall at the very end of the corridor, laughing at the desperate attempts of the other fledgling to flee. Still unable to walk despite his wounds looking slightly better, the gagged vampire was being brutally whipped by one of the soldiers from the cell's doorframe. The door was open and the man stood in its threshold, ready to step back and slam it closed were the fledgling to attack. At the moment, though, the vampire was just helplessly crawling on the floor, restrained by the chains, trying to dodge the whiplashes, brown eyes that already flickered with gold wide and full of fear.  
«Captain!» he called, holding back the bitterness and anger.  
Fendrel turned his head and smiled in greeting. «Good evenin', my men» he said. «Is it time already?»  
«Yes, sir.»  
The man sighed as if he regretted having to leave the place, but he stood up nonetheless. The flogger stopped cracking the whip and stepped back, allowing the door to be closed. The fledgling let out an exhausted exhale and slumped down, broken and bleeding, clear tears falling from his eyes.  
«Crying, vampire?» Fendrel asked sourly. «Payback's a bitch, isn't it? You should be happy you haven't lost a limb yet, with all you've done to us. But maybe this can be arranged later.»  
He walked past Thomas and his four guards. «Give 'im a good beating fer me, will ya?»  
Thomas nodded curtly, walking to the man's spot. «I will, sir».  
Fendrel grinned and walked out of the dungeon, followed by his four men. Thomas and his companions waited for the footsteps to fade, the silence only broken by the fledgling's harsh breathing.  
The pause stretched out for both an eternity and a couple of seconds.  
Thomas hummed a sweet tune, staring straight into the fledgling's eyes.  
Again, silence.  
Then...  
 _Knock  
Knock  
Knock_  
Cassius bolted up and, together with Geoffrey and Zoricus, they pushed back the wall on which Fendrel's men had been leaning. The wall slid back without a sound and then, with the help of the white, slender hands that waited on the other side, slid left.  
Nerissa's green eyes shone in the dark as she walked in the dungeon with lord Athelstan. He and the others greeted them as the fledglings looked at them with confusion and renewed fear.  
«We have six hours» Athelstan said with no preamble.  
The men nodded and set to work.  
As three of them went to the dungeon's door, so that they could warn was someone to approach, Nerissa kneeled in front of the gagged fledgling, almost trembling with anticipation and nervousness.  
«Don't be afraid» she said soothingly, surprised and happy that her voice didn't falter. «We won't hurt you. We're here to help. You understand, don't you?»  
The vampire hissed through the gag and tried to lift himself upright. Needless to say that he failed miserably, falling back to the ground with a pained groan.  
«I know you don't trust us. I don't blame you. But we're not like them, I promise» she said. «We need your help».  
The vampire lifted his gaze. A spark of curiosity burned for a second.  
With renewed hope, Nerissa spoke again. «I'll offer you a deal. We'll help you out of here, without hurting you nor tying you up, and you'll hand a letter to your Sire, _without trying to attack us in the process_. The letter must be read by Vorador and Vorador alone. No swindle.»  
The fledgling stared at her, his gaze burning. They just stared at each other, each second feeling like a millennium, each minute an eternity.  
«Nerissa!» Thomas urged her, glancing nervously at the dungeon's door.  
«The clock's ticking. I know it's difficult to trust us, but we need an answer _now_ » she said urgently, wrapping her hands around the cell's bars.  
The fledgling shifted his gaze on the fellow vampire. Nerissa let them communicate in private, without turning around. She could guess what they were saying, or thinking, who could tell?, -what could be worse than being left in those men's clutches again? After all, they had tortured them all the way to Uschtenheim. They had come unarmed.  
 _Well, almost,_ Nerissa thought, feeling the silver dagger press against her hip.  
Slowly, the golden-brown eyes of the vampire locked with hers, and he nodded.  
Releasing the breath she hadn't known she was holding, she rose and quickly fumbled with the door, opening it. The vampire's eyes sparkled, then narrowed when she pulled out a silver dagger. The men around her drew their swords.  
«I'm sorry. It's just a precaution. Just don't give me reason to use it» she said, feeling her whole body stiffen with apprehension. «I'll take the gag off now, ok?»  
At the creature's slight nod, she walked closer, and despite the fear that was eating away at her, sliced the gag with a quick movement, refusing to step back after the vampire's mouth had been freed.  
The vampire spat the cloth aside, opening and closing his mouth to fight the stiffness and test the tendons. After feeling that it still worked properly, he raised his gaze on Nerissa.  
«Thank you» he rasped, voice rough from his screaming.  
«You're welcome. Now stay still, or I'll be forced to hurt you.»  
The vampire snorted, but said nothing. Taking it as an agreement, Nerissa used one of the hairpins she'd taken with her to work on the shackles. In the other cell, Thomas was carefully removing the scold's bridle from the other terrified fledgling's mouth. As soon as the hook they'd pierced his mouth with slid past his lips, he coughed up blood, doubling over as the man supported him, murmuring soothing words to calm him down.  
Within a couple of minutes, Nerissa had managed to force the shackles and the bindings at the fledgling's ankles. She held him up as she untied him, the vampire hissing in pain.  
«What's your name?» she asked to distract him.  
He looked at her from beneath a curtain on longish dark hair.  
«You scent like a vampire» he said, without answering.  
Nerissa frowned. «I don't understand» she said, as Thomas freed the other fledgling. «But we don't have the time to do so. We'll have to lift you.»  
The vampire hissed. «I'm not going to-»  
«It's either that or being left here» Athelstan said lowly. «The choice is yours, and the head is too. Unless you prefer walking. In that case, be my guest.»  
The other growled in annoyance. «You're not using that tone with me».  
« _Au contraire, mon ami_ » Athelstan said gravelly. «We're the only ones who can use this tone with you. Choose quickly, for in, let's say, five minutes' time, we'll be leaving, with or without you.»  
The vampire seethed, seemingly torn between defiance and salvation, but eventually bowed his head. Athelstan grinned and walked into the cell -and for a man who had just addressed him so arrogantly, he was surprisingly gentle when he lifted the other up.  
The fledgling gripped at his coat with the good hand, hissing in pain. With a hand hooked beneath his smashed knees and the other around his shoulders, Athelstan had lifted him up in a rather undignifying position, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Indeed, despite himself, he was soon panting, sweat breaking out on his forehead, eyes glazed over with pain.  
«Anaxagoras» he gasped out.  
«I beg your pardon?»  
«My name. Anaxagoras.»  
Athelstan nodded. «Welcome in Uschtenheim, Anaxagoras. Bite me and I'll drop you.»  
The vampire shivered at the threat -knowing and dreading that if he was to fall with his legs like that, the pain would be nigh to excruciating. «Your welcome was a bit _too_ warm, I'm afraid» he muttered grimly, rocking his wounded hand to his bloodied chest.  
Thomas, in the meantime, was supporting the other vampire as they walked. The creature seemed to have recovered a little better than Anaxagoras, who was still terribly weak from the tortures he'd been put through.  
«You'll stay here and carry on with the second part of the plan, alright?» he said to Cassius and Geoffrey, who nodded and waited for them to walk into the dark secret passage. When they were on the other side, Nerissa pushed the wall back into place, plunging the corridor in complete darkness.  
«And now?» Anaxagoras asked sourly.  
«Now you shut up and try to regain your strenght» she grumbled shortly, searching for her lantern in the dark. «You'll need it later.»  
The vampire muttered something unintellegible, but that sounded like an insult.  
Nerissa didn't pay it any heed as she found a prism-like lantern on the floor, tucked in a far corner of the corridor behind the wall. The burning light inside was totally concealed by the black metal out of which the lantern was made, and could only be set free by a small hook that kept one of the sides of the prism closed, as though it were a miniature door.  
Nerissa pulled the hook up and opened the lantern, lighting up their haunted faces. They were all like coiled springs, wanting to get rid of both the vampires and the leter as quickly as possible.  
«Quick» Athelstan muttered, starting down the corridor in a brisk pace. He didn't run, for it would cause his precious cargo useless pain, but he still was quite fast without jolting Anaxagoras too much. Thomas in the end had to lift the other vampire in his arms, for he was still too weak to keep up with their pace.  
«For a little thing such as yourself, you sure are heavy» he said, flashing him a comforting smile. «What's your name?»  
The other, who had hissed in agony when he'd been moved a little too roughly, took a little time to answer, but eventually a barely-breathed 'Argyros' came out of his lips.  
«Your names sound like tongue-twisters» Thomas muttered. «How much time do we have left?»  
«I don't know, I'd say five hours before your watch ends» Nerissa answered, leading the way, as she had walked across those tunnels for a thousand times before and now knew them as the back of her hand. «We'll consume about a hour and half, maybe two hours to take them where we left their horses... this leaves us with three hours to come back, and we'll be traveling on foot...»  
«You can make it if you run» Athelstan said. «And I took the fastest horses of my stable when I came here, you'll be surprised with how fast my carriage can travel. We'll save time like that».  
Zoricus gave him a disbelieving look. «We can't run all the way here! We'll be dog fucking tired before we even are-»  
«There's no other way. If you aren't back before sunrise, we are all dead.»  
«You're crazy» Zoricus said, shaking his head.  
«Maybe I am.»  
«Can someone _please_ tell us what on Nosgoth is going on?!» Anaxagoras snapped, gripping at Athelstan's coat to keep from being tossed around too much. «It's our lives you're playing with here, y'know, and I'd like to know what to do to _keep_ mine, thank you very much».  
«We're going to get you on a carriage» Nerissa said, and then sped up the pace, starting to run down the labyrinthine twists and turns, which were leading them deeper and deeper. The air was getting colder and colder and the vampires understood that they were going very far underground. «We'll go as far as Termogent Forest's limits -then you'll take the horses we've left there and ride to Vorador's mansion. I'll give you the letter we spoke about earlier once we get there».  
« _How the hell am I supposed to ride in this condition?!_ » Anaxagoras hissed, pointing to his pulverized legs. «In case you didn't notice, your precious Sarafan have ripped the bones out of my bloody _knees_!»  
«Remember me to leave him in the dungeons next time» Athelstan grumbled.  
«Gods, 'Ras, do you have no respect?!» Argyros snarled, speaking for the first time. «They're taking great risks just to get us out of here and you-»  
«You shut up, no one asked for your-»  
«The Sarafan aren't precious to us, and this will have to do» Nerissa snapped, interrupting them. «And stop arguing, you're wasting energy. We're almost there.»  
The corridor had in fact begun to lead up once more. It had been a fairly short journey, so both fledglings thought that they couldn't have gone very far from the dungeons.  
«We'll arrive in Abraham Reinhet's stables» Nerissa whispered. «Keep silent, and by the sea and stars, don't get discovered».  
They turned a corner and Nerissa stopped in the middle of the corridor. Holding her lantern high up, staring at the ceiling, she begun to count her steps.  
At the tenth one, the lantern's light illuminated a trapdoor on the ceiling.  
«And how the hell are you going to climb up there?» Anaxagoras sneered.  
Just then, the manhole was opened and Athelstan's coachman came into view, together with the burning light of the stables' torches. «Good evening, my lord».  
Nerissa turned to the vampire with a bright smile plastered on her face. He indignantly looked away, huffing.  
Chuckling, Nerissa closed the lantern, leaving it on the floor, and grabbed the rope that the man was offering her, nimbly starting to climb it. Helped by the coachman, she hoisted herself up and turned, speaking to the men below.  
«Anaxagoras, think you can hold yourself on the rope with the good hand? We'll be able pull you up if you manage to do so» she said.  
«What do you think I am, woman? A stupid, weak human?» came the answer, and the rope stirred.  
«No, not weak. Just a stupid fledgling vampire» she said with a smile in her voice, beginning to pull.  
A pained hiss came from below as Anaxagoras was pulled up and out of the underground corridor, then another when Nerissa hooked her arms around his shoulders and lifted him, setting him on the ground.  
«How the hell did you manage to do that?!» the vampire asked, his surprise briefly eclipsing his sourness. «I'm twice as heavy as you!»  
All amusement drained from Nerissa's face and her expression darkened. It was such a sudden change that he flinched as if he'd been hit.  
«Never ask this question again, vampire» she said lowly. «Or I swear I'll cut your cock off and shove it down your throat.»  
And ignoring the vampire's stupefied and confused expression, she turned around to help Argyros out.  
No more words were exchanged on the subject as everyone but Zoricus climbed up. The man would go back to the dungeons and take out their scheme's part two.  
Argyros was now able to walk on his own, but Thomas kept close anyway, silver dagger out and ready. The vampire saw it, but nodded at the man in understanding.  
The horses were snorting and pawing in discomfort at the vampires' presence, ears flattened against their skulls, eyes so wide that the sclera could be seen. Afraid that the noise would draw guards, they hurried to get out.  
The carriage was waiting for them just out of the stable. It was a large, finely crafted thing, the wood painted in black and gold. It could comfortably hold a party of eight people, and there would still be plenty of space for everyone.  
«You surely spoil yourself, huh, human?» Anaxagoras said, back to his usual snarky self.  
«One more word past your lips and I'll leave you here» Athelstan said, but they could all hear the amusement in his voice.  
The coachman opened the carriage and they climbed in, and a matter of minutes they were already moving. Finally giving in a relieved sigh, they relaxed against their seats. The worst had passed by, or so they believed.  
They sat in silence for long minutes, tiredly enjoying their half-victory. Nerissa was beginning to feel how much her back and arms burnt from Abraham's love messages.  
«What now?» Argyros murmured in his whisper-like voice.  
«Now» Thomas said with a sigh, «we wait. You can sleep if you wish, we won't lay a finger on you.»  
«We won't either» Anaxagoras grumbled, and in his gruff and sassy tone they found the most sincere of promises.  
Smiling, Nerissa settled against her seat, Abraham's wounds burning through her. It was hard to find a comfortable position -every way she would twist, the wounds would cry out in protest.  
Anaxagoras would probably have remained oblivious to it, were it not that her movements had reopened the whiplashes beneath their bandages. The sweet smell of blood, albeit light, reached his nostrils and his eyes flew open.  
«You're hurt» he stated bluntly.  
Nerissa turned her eyes, settling them on the vampire in silent question. Thomas and Athelstan turned to look at her.  
«Your back. Probably your arms.»  
The precision with which he pointed out her wounds' position was amazing and terryfing at the same time.  
«You're raving» she said airily. «They must have hit you too hard.»  
«He's not raving» Argyros whispered. «You smell of blood».  
Nerissa snorted and looked away, feigning indifference, her face a blank mask. Deep inside, she was seething and closing in on herself, trembling with rage and terrified beyond measure, begging whatever god there was in Nosgoth not to let anyone find out, for she didn't have the strenght not to _hurt_ them if they did. She was suddenly so damn _angry_ , angry at herself, angry at Abraham, angry at Anaxagoras even if he didn't deserve it. She didn't want pity. She didn't want any of their emotions. She just wanted to be left alone. Wanted them to just _shut the fuck up_.  
«My lady-»  
«Stop.»  
«But-»  
«I said stop, soldier.»  
The guard looked down, defeated. He knew that he could do nothing when she got like this, but that didn't stop him from wishing he could. Nerissa had always built walls around herself, and he'd never known why, but there were just _those times_ when she wouldn't talk, wouldn't meet his gaze-  
Well, she did meet his gaze. But she didn't _see_ him. Those times, her eyes truly looked like two emeralds... beautiful and shiny and just as lifeless.  
She hadn't even turned to face him.  
Athelstan was old and wise enough to understand when someone had been pushed to their limits, even if he didn't know why, so he kept quiet.  
The two vampires looked at one another. Nerissa was sure they were Whispering, but refused to listen to what they were saying.  
The rest of the journey was spent in silence.  
Moebius' carriage came and went.

«We're there» the Man said, a hand on his shoulder, and Anaxagoras realized he'd fallen asleep.  
Cursing under his breath at his slip, he straightened and looked around. The coachman had opened the carriage's door and was standing beside it, sword drawn, glimmering in the moonlight. The Woman had already dismounted and were helping Argyros do the same.  
They were all tense.  
He didn't protest as the Soldier bent to pick him up. He idly wondered why it hadn't been the other man to do so, shrugged it off just as easily.  
The carriage was unmoving, in front of the trees.  
And they smelled like home.  
«At this point I am leaving you» the Man said, and both vampires heard the strange, solemn tone his voice carried. «May the stars watch over you.»  
He didn't have the time to snort at the very human-y benediction before the door was slammed closed, and the carriage driven away.  
It was far away before they could even blink, melting into the darkness of the starry night.  
Horses snorted, and he turned his head to see two beautiful animals, one golden and the other copper, standing just below a great oak's foliage. They did not flinch nor draw away when the vampires approached, and Anaxagoras understood that they were horses used in battles against their kin... horses trained not to flee in fear.  
As that Woman was, coming close when he was comfortable on his mount, handing him an envelope.

 _To: Lord Vorador  
From: Alétheia_

That was all the envelope read.  
«Your name is Alétheia?» Anaxagoras asked, raising his gaze to look at her.  
She shook her head. «You can simply call me N. And him, T.»  
The Soldier smiled a little.  
«We put our trust in you, little fledglings. Please tell your Sire everything. Truthfully» she said.  
«What if our Sire Vorador doesn't...?» Argyros asked, shifting a little on his horse.  
Their expression saddened, and they looked at each other, sighing.  
«Then all we can hope is for quick deaths» this 'T' said. «Farewell, Anaxagoras, Argyros. May the stars protect you.»  
And with that, he was turning on his heels, heading back to where the road was, just to stop at its edge, looking in the distance, waiting.  
Anaxagoras turned to the Woman, who still hadn't moved.  
She smelled like a vampire.  
That cold, dark scent that every one of their kin, albeit in different forms, possessed. She smelled like irises and summer breeze, and of a dry, smoky fragrance that reminded him of temple incense and old stone rooms. As a vampire, the sense of smell became much sharper and Anaxagoras could easily tell the difference between a natural scent and one that wasn't. And that fragrance _was not her own_ , couldn't possibly be -that, at least, he was sure of. It was weak, very weak, suppressed by her natural scent and the smell of blood that clung to her, but it was there.  
And he had already smelled it. Just a few times in his short second life, but he had smelled it.  
Smelled it on his own Sire, each time he came back from the Aerie in the mountains.  
He looked at her with new eyes then, eyes full of wonder and disbelief.  
It was that scent that made him move in the end, that scent that made him bide her farewell and ride deep into the forest with Argyros on his heels. Pushing the stallion to his limits despite the excruciating pain in his legs and back and hand, letter held firmly in hand.  
It was not normal that a human scented like a vampire.  
And it was not normal that the same human scented like Janos Audron.

. . .

Authoress' note:  
Sorry for the late update, I wanted to post it ages ago and life just had to get in the way :( Anyway, thank you for your kind review, Razieletta95, you don't know how happy it made me :))  
I do not own in any shape or form the characters featured in this story -this also applies to the story's image cover and to the quotes at the beginning of each chapter. I only own my OCs and the story's plot.  
Comments please!  
Have a good day/night and love Legacy of Kain!


	8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

 _Music in the soul  
Can be heard by the universe_

. . .

«I didn't mean to snap at you like that, you know» Nerissa murmured as she joined Thomas on the road. «Nor did I want to call you 'soldier'».  
«I know. It's how we agreed, don't you remember? 'My lady' and 'soldier' not to reveal our true names.»  
«It's just... I hate it when I... call you, any of you, by anything that is not your name» she confessed, starting to walk down the road. The night was still young -Athelstan's carriage truly had travelled fast. «I just wanted you to know.»  
«Don't worry. And I know you get... upset whenever someone asks you whether you... well...»  
«Am unwell?»  
«Yes.»  
«Sorry.»  
«Don't be. We all have our little manias, don't you think?»  
She smiled. «Yes. We do.»  
«But this can't keep me from wishing you would trust me enough to tell me» Thomas said softly.  
She turned to him, eyes clouded with sadness. She didn't have to say anything to let Thomas know that what he'd said was true: that she actually didn't trust him enough to tell him everything.  
That was fine with him. There were secrets that he, too, had never revealed to anyone, unable to trust them enough to. Nerissa's display didn't hurt.  
It was sad, but it didn't hurt.  
They jogged down the road. They still had time, but Uschtenheim was far, and they didn't know how much time was left before the fledglings' disappearance would be discovered. Cassius and the others had set up their cover, but how much time before it was rendered useless?  
«We should have taken horses» he muttered.  
«Of course. Two knights, in the dead of the night, that come knocking at Uschtenheim's gates. We'd raise no suspicion at all, I dare say.»  
«I hate it when you use that tone.»  
«No one likes being shut up, man» she said gravelly... and then they both bursted out laughing, the tension of the mission unraveling in those cheerful sounds.  
«I suppose not» he smiled. «Jean surely didn't like it.»  
«Jean is an idiot» she said, shaking her head.  
«Enamoured men often are.»  
She turned to him, quirking an eyebrow. «And who's the unlucky little thing? I'd gladly send them my condolences.»  
«You'd be sending a letter to yourself» Thomas said casually, and her eyes widened like never before.  
«You're joking.»  
«Seriously, Nerissa... half of the court knows that. How couldn't you notice?» he laughed, knowing that Jean would be in for some trouble when they'd arrive in Uschtenheim.  
«I never see him around. How am I supposed to know?!» she asked angrily, pinching the bridge of her nose. «And I hate his guts, how can he even think-»  
«Well, it's not like he's the most intuitive man we know.»  
She sighed in frustration. «This is not about intuition, this is about stupidity. I never hide how much I dislike him.»  
Then, as if stuck by a thought, she turned to face him again, eyes wide and horrified.  
« _You_ are not in love with me, right?»  
Thomas looked at her seriously and she felt her heart sink.  
When he bursted out laughing, she stared at him for a moment, then raised her hands in defeat.  
«Ok, ok, I guess I deserved it» she said, annoyed but at the same time relieved -Thomas was her friend since they were little kids, she could not find it in herself to see their relationship as anything more than that.  
«Yes, you did, you oaf» Thomas said, his laughter never ceasing. «Seriously, how could you think something like that? I mean, I like you, but not the _like_ _like_ , you know?»  
«Thank god! I'd never survive that» she huffed, and he brought a hand to his chest.  
«Oh, Nerissa, you stab me in the heart» he said dramatically. She elbowed him, laughing, and picked up the pace.  
«C'mon, you» she said. «We're never going to make it if we keep this pace».  
«Of course. Will you explain me something, though?»  
«If I can.»  
«What was all that about? Remember, you know, the whole letters and sounds stuff.»  
Nerissa froze for a moment, all color draining from her face.

 _«Thomas, could you do me a favor?»  
«Of course. What is it?»  
«I saw these letters in a book, I was wondering if you could make me hear them?»  
Nerissa handed him a piece of paper. He took it, rapidly looking through it.  
«I'm not sure how to 'translate' them for you... the first one is an 'I'».  
«And the others?»  
«The second's a 'H'. Then there's an 'O', a 'P', a 'E'...»  
He'd translated into sounds all the letters of Janos' message. She hadn't transcribed the similar letters, as she didn't want him to read the whole message, so the words were utterly unintellegible -but it would do. Now that she knew what those signs meant, she could finally read Janos' message. With some difficulty.  
... more like a lot.  
But she would._

«Oh, it was just a short-lived desire. I wanted to read a little tale, but then I lost interest» she said lightly -all of her composure back in a matter of seconds. She resolved to lie, of course. It wasn't a tale what she'd wanted to read, and it wasn't true that she had lost interest. Nor in reading, nor in Janos.  
She'd wanted to read and write ever since she was a little child. She'd told Mary many times that when she grew up she wanted to write a book all by herself. The nursemaid had smiled, knowing that she would never even be taught how to read. After all, she was a woman. Women weren't taught that. It would lead to them not being afraid of speaking their mind, creating opinions of their own, thoughts, foolish dreams of self-made decisions that would never come. They didn't have to think, they had to obey.  
Thomas hummed, and never unmasked her lie.

«You did a wonderful job» Nerissa said, impressed, as she looked at the blackened and smoking ruins of the stables.  
They were standing by a window in the corridor of her apartments, the smell of smoke reaching their nostrils even so high up. She and Thomas had returned just in time in the city, using the buste and commotion to slip unnoticed past the main doors and walking in the fortress through the usual underground passage.  
«Yeah» Cassius said, kind of proud of their handiwork. «We thought that burning the stables down would be a perfect and long-lasting cover for you. Hay and straw catch fire easily enough and they burn quickly, so it wouldn't be all that surprising that a fire broke out in there. Every single guard in the fortress had to come -the vampires could have escaped while we were putting the fire out.»  
«And no one died?»  
«No one. Nor humans, nor animals.»  
She smiled. «Good job. I would have regretted seeing such beautiful animals dead.»  
«Are you referring to the men or the horses?»  
Nerissa smiled a little.  
«And you, my lady? Did everything go smoothly?»  
«Everything went perfectly, yes. The fledglings are, I hope, safely riding towards Vorador's mansion» she said with a satisfied smile. «I can't wait to hear when they find out that those two are no longer in their cells.»  
«I do not particularly look forward to it. I'm sure your father will find a way to blame us, despite having bellowed that _every single_ _man_ had to come and help put the fire out.»  
«I think he'll just blame it on those poor souls again. They used magic to set fire to the stables, they used their evil powers to make you forget your duties, they used their vampiric abilities to run away.»  
«At least he can't torture them anymore for it» Cassius said. Then, lowly: «Do you think it will work?»  
Nerissa sighed and closed her eyes, resting her head against the wall supporting the window. «I can only hope. I rely on the fact that Vorador will be curious enough to try and find out who we are, what we do.» She screwed her eyes shut. «But what if he's not? What if this was only a pathetic attempt at controlling something we can't control? What if the war just goes on and on and on until there's no one else to kill and we're just small beings fighting against fate?»  
Cassius' eyes were soft and his hand gentle when it settled on her shoulder. «It is said that fate is inevitable, that she has all already planned, is it not? The simple fact that we are here, fighting for a better Nosgoth, means that we have a purpose. That we were destined to try to stop this. I think it is more than honourable an aim, Nerissa.»  
She smiled softly, though she didn't open her eyes. «How come that you always know what to say?»  
Cassius chuckled. «That, my lady, is the question. But now go, and get some sleep. You look exhausted.»  
Nerissa straightened her back, as if about to protest, but the whiplashes sent a horrible jolt of pain down her spine and she was made mute.  
She felt a shiver run down her spine, wondering why they were still so painful -she usually healed fast, and by this time any wound would already be closed, safe and sound, almost giving her no pain at all.  
She sighed. It was probably just an infection. She'd dealed with it before, she'd deal with it again.  
«Maybe you're right. I'll go now. Take the day off, all of you. Princess' orders.»

. . .

Infection. Great.  
 _Fuck you, Abraham._  
Nerissa snarled as she cleaned her wounds, more out of rage than anything else. She was so damn tired of it all. So tired and so _angry_. All that bottled up anger that she couldn't help but voice, and it would lead to more pain, more marks, more lies and more rage, spiralling ever downwards in the pit of rancor.  
She was alone. Mary and the others knew better than to come to her when she was like this.  
 _Maybe it's a problem of yours. Maybe he knows something you don't know.  
Shut up.  
Think about it. You have certain vampire abilities, is it not? Would it be so strange if he already knew and hated you for this? For partly being something that he wants to kill?  
It's not my fault.  
But it's you who will endure the consequences. It's you who'll play scapegoat.  
It's not fair.  
Life never is. It just holds you down until you disappear.  
Who are you?  
I'm you. Who else?  
_She hissed, willing that grim little voice to shut up. Mercifully, it did.  
Two knocks at her door, and then hurried footsteps, as if someone was running away.  
Nerissa idly wondered who could be, so early in the morning, then ignored them. She'd damn well take her time -take care of her wounds, sleep as much as she needed and _then_ she'd look at whatever they'd brought her. She conjured up the image of a young maid, leaving something by her door, and felt the sudden urge to slap her. Hard. So hard she'd hear the bone break.  
She knew that whoever had left the thing by her door wasn't at fault, but she couldn't help it. She desperately needed to let it all out. She needed to breathe, for god's sake, to drop the fragile, scared, shy lady act.  
She needed to see Janos.  
The thought of the lake and the serenity Janos was able to infuse in her made her sigh, closing her eyes. She found herself desperately missing him. It was all happening so _fast_ , they'd known each other for just a couple of months, and she already couldn't do without him. She knew it was probably her desperate loneliness that had led her to feel so strongly for Janos, and that made her want to scream out with her hands buried in her hair. As much as she wanted to blame someone else, anyone else, she knew she could only be angry at herself. Nerissa was selfish, oh so selfish to desire his company to quench her own thirst, and she was scared, because she could be _cruel_ and she didn't want to hurt Janos. And she would end up doing so in the end, of that she was sure. Hell, she had grown immersed in cruelty, pain and heartbreak bleeding in her life like poison in her veins, manipulation and deceit being in the very air she breathed since she was a child. She remembered all too well the time when she'd escaped Mary and gone out to play, and had found a group of soldiers around a horse lying on the ground, neighing like it was in excruciating pain. She'd thought that the animalwas unwell, and that had proved to be _right_ , for it was tied to the ground, stomach and belly sliced open and then sewn back together after a living man had been forced inside. Only the head of the poor soul stuck out, and he was screaming in agony along with the horse.  
She'd ran back to Mary then, pale, sickened, shaking like a leaf. She hadn't screamed, or cried. She'd just embraced her tightly, breathing hard, eyes wide, her mind conjuring up feelings of bodily fluids and hard organs pushing around her legs.  
Shadow monster in a court of demons.  
And Janos was too good to his heart to see it.  
Nerissa got up abruptly and went to the door, not bothering to cover up her wounds again. She opened it and saw a folded piece of paper resting on the floor.  
She sneered.  
 _Bastard_.  
He knew she couldn't read. But he'd delivered a _written message_ nonetheless.  
Too bad. She wouldn't go to whatever place he'd wanted her and she'd tell him to damn call for her next time.  
 _And how many whiplashes for that, my dear?  
Shut up.  
_She grabbed the paper and carelessly threw it on the desk. She'd try to decipher it later.  
She went back to the bathroom to bandage her wounds again. They were red, swollen and uncomfortably warm, but after a couple of thorough cleansings she was sure they'd close up nicely.  
«My lady?»  
Nerissa cursed and slammed the bathroom's door closed. She heard a gasp from the other side and let out a growl.  
« _WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT?_ » she screamed, enraged beyond control.  
«M-my lady, I-I was sent by y-your father!» the maiden whimpered. _Coward_.  
«Then speak quickly, servant, before I lose my patience» Nerissa said, and her voice suddenly was calm.  
She heard another whimper and rolled her eyes.  
«H-he has s-summoned y-you» the servant girl whispered.  
Nerissa felt her blood run cold.  
Why would her father summon her so early in the morning? How could he know that she was awake, and not sleeping the hours away?  
He knew something. Maybe he guessed it, more probably someone told him.  
And when she found them, they'll wish they'd never been born.  
«I'll be there shortly» she said, death lacing her voice.  
«F-forgive me, m-my lady, but he said that y-you... h-his words... 'she already has had enough time. I sent her a message'.»  
Nerissa's knuckles turned white as she gripped the edge of the washbasin.  
Of course.  
«I'll be there shortly» she repeated, relentless. «You are dismissed.»  
«But-»  
« _You are dismissed, servant._ »  
She heard clothes rustling, and then quick footsteps as the maiden ran away. A small pang of guilt made her briefly regret snapping, but then rage coaxed her back to snarling.  
When she opened the door, she was alone. She thanked the gods for that. She wouldn't have beared to snap at Mary, or Thomas, or any of her few friends.  
Slowly, she dressed in a more appropriate way to meet her father. Someway in the process, anger began to subside, and when she was done, all she felt was numbness.  
She walked down the corridors like a soulless creature. Somewhere deep in the back of her mind, she knew that this time she wouldn't get away with just a few whiplashes or glass shards.  
 _And in record time, too. The other wounds haven't even closed up._  
It was with a bitter smile that she welcomed the thought. It was easier that way. It was easier to hate her father without remembering the times when she was but a babe, when he'd read her a tale to lull her to sleep, the times when he would bathe her and she'd splash him in the face and they would laugh. When he would play with her in the garden and let her crown him with a flower wreath.  
What had happened to those moments? What had happened to the times when she would look in his eyes and find love and affection, when he would hold her small hand in his large one and he'd take her to ride out in the woods, only Nerissa and her father?  
She sighed. It hurt to think of them as they had been, knowing that those were now nothing but memories of long ago. Now they were just cold drops of blood on a shining silver blade.  
She stood as the guards pushed the doors of the throne room open. She walked in silently, and stared straight in his blue orbs when he smiled down at her.  
«My child», and his voice was sweet.  
«Father», and hers was blank.  
He walked closer. For all his muscles and despite being taller, it seemed as if he just couldn't tower over his daughter. It was something in her eyes, he was sure. Those damn eyes, that followed him everywhere, piercing him, making him feel as if she could see him through a hundred walls.  
«You were late» he said nonchalantly. «I sent a message for you to come here immediately.»  
 _And you basked in the knowledge that I was unable to read it.  
_ «However, this is not important now» he said immediately after, and she thanked her lucky star that she didn't have to reply, because her comment would have been _snide_. «I learned most... unpleasant news just now. That the two vampires we fought so hard to bring here escaped.»  
«I fail to see how this is connected with me, my liege» she said in monotone.  
«Of course. I should never have expected anything different from you.»  
Abraham turned his back at her, blond hair sweeping over his shoulders. «You might want to know why I summoned you.»  
 _JUST TELL ME WHAT YOU'RE GOING TO DO ALREADY!_ «Only if that is my liege's wish.»  
«Of course.» He turned. His blue eyes shone with glee. «Tomorrow there was to be an execution. A sacrifice with rituals of old to keep the vampires at bay.»  
 _As if they ever worked._ «I am aware of that, my liege.»  
«Now, with those vampires gone, we must face a... _problem_. We lack an offering.»  
 _..._  
 _Not even you would do that._  
«I... understand, my liege.»  
 _I understand, and I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I don't want to die!_  
 _And what would you keep on living for? More pain, torture, sorrow-_  
(golden eyes looking at her from above a smile of beautiful dark lips) _  
Oh, please. Don't make me laugh! Not even you could be that stupid!  
I want to see him one last time. Just one last time.  
You're hopeless,sweet child of mine.  
I am no child of yours. You're me, remember? _You _are a child of_ mine _.  
_ And the voice fell silent.  
Abraham smiled at her. Sweetly. «But luckily for you, Lord Moebius has decided not to take your life as such. Tomorrow we _-yes, you too, my child-_ will celebrate and when he leaves, you'll go with him.»  
It was as if time had stopped still. As if someone had thrown her into an icy lake and was now holding her down, drowing the life out of her, extinguishing her like a candle's flame.  
«Consider yourself lucky. I _know_ that you're involved somehow in those two bastards' escape, and if I had proof, I would have you thrown in the dungeon and whipped until there's not an inch of skin on you from your neck down. If Lord Moebius hadn't insisted, you'd already be dead.»  
 _Please. Please. Not Moebius. Anyone but not Moebius._  
«Now go. Get ready for the celebration. I expect you to look your best, even if I cannot fathom how Lord Moebius could like something as disgusting as you. You better not waste this chance, just like you wasted all the marriages I had arranged for you.»  
She stood still, frozen on her spot. Suddenly the place felt terribly cold. Her eyes were immense, clouded, and numb.  
Abraham turned around. «And pray tell, why are you still here?»  
Why was she still there?  
She courtsied stiffly and walked out of the throne room without another word. Her lips were pressed together in a tight lilac line and for the first time since her mother's death, her eyes were brimmed with tears.  
She was leaving a hell just to enter another.  
Locked up in the Sarafan's fortress, at those men's mercy, with only the company of that viscid, disgusting old man. And this time there was no escape.  
Nerissa had met Moebius just three times in her life, and each time she'd found her disgust for the man increasing. The first one had been when she was a child, and her mother was still there. His milky eyes hadn't stopped searching for her the whole time, and when she had been led to him, when his cold hand had touched her chubby pale cheek, Nerissa had let out an uncomfortable little sound and had shied away.  
The second time she was thirteen and her body had just begun to develop. She remembered being happy for that -it was true, childhood was over, she would have become a woman. But those eyes, those damn blind eyes had kept on following her, staring mercilessly, his gaze fixing on the blooming buds that barely stretched her clothes. She'd felt dirty for days after that. If she had any lingering doubts on the sanctity of that man, she had forsaken them then.  
The third and last time had been when she was seventeen. She remembered not looking in his direction, not even once, refusing to acknowledge his presence, and his gaze fixed on her body the whole time, as if stripping her bare, walking on the line of property with atrocious precision. She'd excused herself early that night and for the first time in her life, she'd locked her bedroom door.  
Now, again, she would feel those white eyes burning holes in her body. But this time she wouldn't be excused early, she couldn't lock her bedroom door. She would go with him, and she knew where his hands would touch once away from prying eyes. She knew she was beautiful, someone to be desired, but she'd desperately hoped that her vampire-like looks would have kept him at bay. With those few stone words Abraham had made sure to take that away from her.  
Nerissa found herself sitting on her bed without knowing how she'd got there, and suddenly she felt that she was not safe there anymore. She felt tears prick at her eyes and refused to let them fall.  
Abraham had taken every last scrap of safety Nerissa had ever felt in that fortress. With a few cold words, he'd turned it in a beartrap and was trying to lure her into putting her foot on it.  
But she wouldn't. She would not be their sweet, sweet victim. She would fight and would get out of there.  
 _And go where?  
I don't know. Away. Far away.  
You're crazy, woman.  
Perhaps.  
_Sitting on her bed, Nerissa couldn't help but feel trapped in a web. A web that bot Abraham and Moebius were slowly drawing closer.

Back in the throne room, Abraham turned to the guard who'd emerged from the shadows.  
«Are you absolutely sure?» he asked icily.  
He nodded stiffly.  
«The princess of Uschtenheim... getting it on with a vampire. Janos Audron, no less. I suppose sending her to Moebius is a fitting punishment.»  
«My lord-»  
«Shut up. You did well in telling me of them and of this... _Alétheia_. I'll see them all burning.»  
He turned to face Thomas Nash. «Bring me Mary La Roche.»

. . .

Authoress' note:  
I do not own in any shape or form the characters featured in this story -this also applies to the story's image cover and to the quotes at the beginning of each chapter. I only own my OCs and the story's plot.  
Comments please!  
Have a good day/night and love Legacy of Kain!


	9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

 _Music is a higher revelation  
Than all wisdom and philosphy_

. . .

«Do not be afraid» Mary murmured brokenly. «Everything will be alright».  
Nerissa sat rigidly on her chair, waiting for Mary to be done with her hair.  
«It won't be alright» she murmured, defeated. «I'll have to go with that bastard and God knows what he'll do to me. I'd prefer being skinned alive than having his filthy hands on me.»  
«Oh, my dear, he won't get his hands on you. I'll kill him before he does.»  
Nerissa smiled weakly.  
«Mary, if I don't return-»  
«Nerissa-»  
«Please, let me finish. If I don't return, tell Thomas I entrust him with the Alétheia. Do not let all that we've fought for crumble to the ground.»  
«There will be no need, for you will return to us, one way or another» Mary said, tears welling in her soft brown eyes. Her hands stopped weaving braids in her hair.  
Nerissa brushed her cheek with the back of her hand, just like Mary had done so many times before. «Someday» she promised.  
Mary nodded, her tears shining golden in the dying light of the sunset.  
And then they fell in each other's arms, grip tight as if it was the last day on Nosgoth. Mary's sobs echoed in the void of the room for both an eternity and mere moments. Nerissa held her tight, whispering her name again and again and again.  
«You promised to tell me, remember?» the old maid said, when her tears had dried at last. «The reason why you asked me to tell you about Janos Audron».  
Nerissa smiled brokenly, a crying laugh leaving her lips.  
«I owe you this, do I not?» she asked, wiping away a salty clear drop of her own. «I suppose I could tell you. I mean, I won't be seeing you for a while, and... oh, God, I'm so scared...»  
But she wasn't afraid of Moebius and all that he brought with him, she was scared of Mary's judgement. She'd been her mother for so long, she didn't know what she would have done without her.  
«Never fear» Mary said, embracing her tightly. «There's always a good reason behind your actions, I'm sure there is one behind this one too».  
Nerissa laughed because she didn't have the strenght to cry, tears threatening to spill at Mary's affection.  
«As you wish» she murmured, shuddering. «Just don't scream when I tell you everything».  
«I would never».  
«O-ok then... I... remember the golden harp? The one Abraham wanted to burn?»  
«Yes, I do. A most refined instrument, belonging to your late mother. And you play it so well, too.»  
«When I heard that he wanted to destroy it, I panicked. You know how attached I was to that harp. So I decided to move it before he got it. I went around the city and then out to seek the place where to hide it, and I found the lake...»  
Mary paled. «You-»  
«I'm still alive, am I not? Please, let me finish before... before saying anything.»  
The old woman pursed her lips, but nodded stiffly at Nerissa as a sign she could continue.  
«As I said, I found this lake and the forest around seemed perfect to hide the harp. So I paid two men so that they would carry it there for me, it was too heavy for me to lift all by myself. Remember when you asked me whare I disappeared to every now and then?»  
«Don't tell me you went to that lake without protection!» hissed Mary.  
«Alright, I won't tell you» the young one attempted to jest, but that only served to enrage Mary more.  
« _Nerissa_ -»  
«Please hear me out!»  
Mary sighed and fell silent once again.  
«Yes, I went to the lake each time. I simply played the harp there. Nothing more. But my music probably attracted Janos and-»  
« _Janos_. Such familiarity between you two» Mary spat, crossing her arms on her chest.  
« _Will you stop interrupting me?!_ » Nerissa snapped, frustrated. «I'm trying to tell you how things went and you-»  
«I'm just worried sick about you!»  
«You don't have to be! I'm alive and well, remember?»  
The old woman sighed, her arms falling back to hanging at her sides. She sat on the bed, hands in her lap, and stared intently at Nerissa.  
«Alright. I'll stop interrupting you. Continue, please.»  
Sighing in relief, Nerissa did. «What was I-... ah, my music must have attracted _Janos_ » she stressed the name, «because after a month or so that I went there to play, I saw him in the shadows of his Aerie. It was the time I came home bloody and you bandaged my hands. The time I asked you about him. After that episode I went meeting him again. And he's actually _nice_ , Mary. Kind, patient, and has travelled so much! He told me about the sea-»  
«You like him.»  
The affirmation was so blunt and sudden that Nerissa had to stop to process it. When the words hit home, though, a fierce blush appeared on her pale cheeks.  
«He _is_ nice» she muttered.  
«And you didn't deny.»  
«... no.»  
Mary looked at her with the most serious expression Nerissa had ever seen on her face. It would have been comical, hadn't it been completely justified.  
Then the umpteenth sigh left her lips and she pinched the bridge of her nose.  
«Dear God, only _you_ could go and find yourself a vampire. What's _wrong_ with normal men?»  
Nerissa grinned. «They're insipid. And I just said that I _like_ him, it's not like I want to marry him.»  
«I know. But damn it all, I swear, I... I just... it's that...»  
Mary exhaled noisily and stood up abruptly. «It's just that now I need to chase a damn winged vampire and threaten him to rip all his feathers out if he doesn't keep an eye on you!» she snapped in one single breath. «Couldn't you meet him when I was younger?! I could have climbed that Aerie with ease!»  
Nerissa laughed, a sound finally free of sadness and forcing. «Oh, Mary, you're one of a kind» she said fondly.  
«Of course. You needed someone like me. Who else would face your wild hair with a brave heart, without fear and terror?»  
More laughter followed her words, along with a sharp knock at her door.  
Their happiness was extinguished like a candle's flame.  
«Enter» Nerissa commanded, her voice suddenly devoid of all emotion.  
Slowly, the doors opened to reveal a young servant girl. She couldn't be more than fifteen years old.  
«G-greetings, m-my lady» she stuttered, giving in a small curtsey. «M-my lady, our L-lord asks for your p-presence. H-he says that if you d-don't come of your own will, h-he'll s-send the whole a-army to make you, u-unless y-you're indisposed by a-a c-certain pain in your b-body.»  
Unless you're indisposed.  
By a _certain pain_.  
She could practically see Abraham's grin and sparkling eyes as she told the servant what words to say.  
She could tell her that she was unwell, so that she wouldn't have to endure that torture, but she knew that the decision had been made already.  
«I'll be there» she said lowly, turning away. «And tell him I sweetly smile at him.»  
She heard rustle of clothes and then a barely whispered 'yes, my lady', then the maiden ran away.  
Nerissa almost wished she'd stayed, so that she could unleash her anger on _someone_ instead of the furninture.  
She would go to that cursed feast despite the burning whiplashes on her back. She would go there and show him that she hadn't been broken, nor would he ever be able to.  
Mary left her hair half-undone, caressing the thick strands with shaking hands, a lonely tear running down her cheek.  
«Nerissa... let me tell you something, before you go.»  
The young one lifted her gaze, locking it with the maid's teary one.  
«I... I do not want you to call Abraham your father anymore.»  
Nerissa quirked an eyebrow. She hated Abraham too, but that could not change that she was blood of his blood.  
«Why?»  
«Because he's not your father. He's not you real father.»  
Nerissa didn't understand those words at first. They seemed so... so distant, in some way. So extraterrestrial. She stared at Mary with mouth agape and wide open eyes, as the old woman told her everything.

. . .

She stood, unmoving, before the Time Streamer, the chaos and loud voices of the party falling in the background. The dance hall was packed, and yet it was as if there were only Nerissa and him.  
Moebius was just as she remembered him: thin, viscidly polite, and blind. He wore dark violet robes lined with gold, the colors a little faded with age. A violet, gold-rimmed hood was covering his head and casting shadows on his pale, paper-thin skin. He was holding his snake staff, the purple orb shining weakly in the burning light of the chandelier.  
Nerissa had been forced to wear that damn corset again, and it constricted her chest, making it difficult to breathe. The burgundy dress she was wearing was heavy and cumbersome, with way too many sequins for her liking. Her hair, half-undone as it was, had been set up in an elaborate coiffure, and as usual, the hairpins annoyingly pulled at her head from everywhere. All of it, combined with the sight of the man before her and  
 _(above all)_  
his staff, was making her slightly dizzy.  
At least the dress covered her breasts enough.  
«I'm extremely proud of your choice, Lady Nerissa» Moebius said, and despite the gentleness of his tone, his words practically dripped with falsehood.  
Nerissa forced herself to take long, deep breaths, as difficult as it was with that damned corset on. Standing so calmly with him so close was difficult, incredibly so, but she didn't want it to show. She would keep her mask of blank nothingness on. _  
_«Do not mock me, Time Streamer» she said dangerously. «I chose _nothing_. I have been traded between you and the governor like a piece of meat. Tell me, what did he promise you in return? Gold? Lands? Power?»  
Ha chuckled softly. «Oh, my dear, I know you're enraged, but I'm sure you'll see that this is for the best. No one else would have given you a future.»  
«I do not need anyone to _give_ me a future. I am perfectly capable of crafting one myself, thank you.»  
«Perhaps. But would you have a reason to keep living here?»  
She narrowed her eyes at him, making him smile. The dizziness was rapidly worsening. «I am blind, my beautiful creature, but do you think for a moment that I cannot see the hurt in you?» he said, stepping closer. She took a step back with a disgusted expression. «You want answers, and you want respite. I can give you all that, and I'd offer it to you gratuitously... but for a little something».  
«The only respite I wish to have is the one the lack of your presence would provide» Nerissa said with an infuriating smile. «And the only answer I need is your 'yes' to my 'leave'».  
He laughed. «You know, little one,» he said, «they say the wild ones are the most fun once tamed.»  
«Too bad I won't be tamed» she spat hatefully, fuming in anger.  
«You will, my dear. In time, you will» he cooed. «You cannot back off from this anyway. I already paid your father in gold for you, and he will not take you back, he's made that clear. Besides,» he continued, raising a hand as if to stroke her, «you'll be very well taken care of. I'll personally see to that».  
The lust in his blind eyes was unmistakable and Nerissa felt sick. She shied away from his touch and shuddered at the thought of his hands on her body.  
«I will never submit to you» she hissed, fighting the growing fog that was threatening to overwhelm her.  
«You made that point clear. But let me tell you something...»  
He stepped closer, a horrible grin on his wrinkled face. «You. Are. _Mine_. Mine to do as I please. I do not need your submission, even though I'll have it someday. I just need _you_ » he murmured sweetly. «Now, would you care to dance?»  
Nerissa's eyes widened in shock. How- how dare he-  
«I will notdance with you» she snarled. «You would not be able to keep up with me anyway, _old man_. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have no desire to pursue this conversation further.»  
Moebius smiled sweetly. She would have loved to wipe that smile from his face with a punch.  
«Yes, go, dear. Think this over and you'll realize that I am right.»  
«I do not believe it possible.»  
On that note, she turned to leave.  
And suddenly the most horrible sensation she'd ever felt clawed at her stomach, threatening to make her gag.  
Dry and yet viscid fingers, _touching_ her, trailing up her thigh-  
Nerissa whipped around and felt a sharp, glorious sting on her hand as she slapped him in the face.  
The Time Streamer stumbled back, his snake staff clattering to the ground, and the whole hall went silent.  
 _Of course. Only now you remember that you have ears and eyes and you can hear and see._  
She stood there, breathing hard, her head slowly clearing, looking as he drew a wrinkled hand to his burning cheek.  
«This is all you'll ever have from me» she hissed, uncaring if the whole fortress heard her. «You, and the bastard of a man who I thought was my father.»  
At the very end of the hall, Abraham held his breath and deep ocean meet burning emeralds as their gazes locked.  
The silence was overwhelming.  
«Dungeons. Now.»  
His voice was icy and hard as stone, but for the first time in twenty-two years, so were his "daughter" 's eyes.  
When the guards approached, she sent them a deathly glare. They stopped, too shocked to move.  
«No» she hissed icily. His eyes widened in shock and then narrowed in rage.  
«Pray tell, what was that?» he asked sweetly, dangerously beginning to approach.  
«You heard me. I'm done with you, that old fucker and this insanity. I refuse to live like a caged animal» Nerissa snarled, lifting her chin with pride.  
«You have no chances to escape. There are almost five hundred soldiers in this fortress. At the end of this day, either you'll be in the dungeons, or you'll be dead» Abraham said, a growl rumbling in his chest.  
She grinned mockingly. _You are not my father, and I'm not afraid of you.  
_ «You do not know what I am capable of. I'll come out alive from this fortress, Abraham, and most people in this room will be dead. Of course, that is if I wait for you to make the first move. But I could always decide to attack a guard, steal their dagger away and throw it straight to your heart.»  
Abraham came to a halt. His blue eyes scanned the woman's face, and he knew that she was willing to carry out all that she'd just said. She'd answered to his death threat with another death threat, and she was not afraid to spill blood.  
«I'm leaving this court. Do not follow me or you will regret it. I'm done taking orders from you.»  
And on that note, Nerissa Graves turned around and left.  
Abraham let her go.  
 _I knew you'd find out someday, sweet child of Alexandra. But I will not turn a blind eye your disobedience. I may not be your father, but I am still your governor._  
«Shut every way that leads out of the fortress» he commanded airily, ignoring Moebius' shocked and outraged expression. «She's not leaving Uschtenheim anytime soon.»

. . .

That same night, the green-eyed woman peered out of her room. The corridor was empty and silent, no guards were around to stop her.  
That just made her more wary. There was no way Abraham would let her go without even trying to keep her shackled. Especially not after having promised the Time Streamer she'd accompany him to the Sarafan's stronghold.  
She took a silent step in the empty hallway. The moonlight that came in from the high windows created pools of white light on the floor. Not even the torches had been lit, and that meant that Mary hadn't passed from her apartments.  
But Mary shared them with her. She had her own room in Nerissa's quarters. And at that hour of the night she would surely be in bed, sleeping.  
A pang of anguish began gnawing at her. What if something had happened to her?  
 _No. They wouldn't have any reasons to hurt her. She's just a servant._  
Unless Abraham had hurt her because he knew she and Nerissa were close.  
And speaking of close, she hadn't seen Thomas either.  
Nerissa uncertainly toyed with the leather bag she was carrying. This might very well be her only chance at fleeing. She couldn't allow herself any distractions.  
Mary had probably just been withheld to serve at the feast. Thomas would surely be around on watch.  
But what if something truly had befallen them? She couldn't leave with the knowledge that she'd fled without checking on them first, without knowing whether they were alright.  
As silent as a shadow, she hid the supplies bag behind the statue of the one-eyed man. She would sneak around, she'd find them and assure herself that they were safe. Only then would she flee.  
She tiptoed out of her apartments, sneaking down to the kitchens and the servants' quarters. There were a few maidens and scullions, washing dishes and trays, but Mary was nowhere to be seen.  
Frowning, Nerissa creeped away. Once or twice she had to hide from a few guards, but there wasn't the massive deployment of forces Abraham had promised her. Nor was there sight of Thomas, even if the left wing, where Nerissa was searching, was the place he'd been assigned to.  
With a growing sense of dread, Nerissa bolted down to the dungeons. This time no long, elegant robes were flowing behind her back, as she'd dressed with a pair of very masculine trousers and a black shirt -a dress would only hinder her while running or riding, and she didn't want any more difficulties than the ones she already had.  
When Nerissa slid inot the dungeons, she remembered why she hated to go down there. The stench of blood and rot was a punch in the gut, and the painful wails and moans of the prisoners were haunting. There were just two lit torches, and their burning light wasn't enough to make out anything clearly, but it would have to do.  
There were six guards in the darkened corridor, confabulating. Relief flooded her as she recognised Thomas and the clothes of five other members of the web of spies.  
«Thomas!»  
Her whisper reached his ears, for he turned around and smiled brightly at her.  
«Nerissa!» he called, and his voice was fond.  
She ran to him, hugging him tightly.  
 _I will never see you again..._  
«What are you doing down here?» he asked, not letting her go.  
«I... I was... searching for Mary, actually. I couldn't find her anywhere, and I'm leaving tonight and-»  
«Leaving?! What do you mean, leaving?!» he asked, shocked, parting from her while keeping his hands on her shoulders, keeping her at arm's lenght.  
Nerissa sighed, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead. «I challenged my father tonight at the ball. He wanted to send me with Moebius to the Sarafan's stronghold, and I refused.»  
Thomas looked at her seriously. «It was the right thing to do. Nothing good ever comes from either of them, nothign good can come when they unite their forces. Even though I'm sad you cannot stay anymore, I am also glad that you finally found the strenght to be free.»  
Nerissa smiled at him, eyes shining bright. «Really? Do you actually think I did well?»  
«You cannot let others rule you, especially when said others are not worthy being the floor beneath your feet. But now come. Let us find Mary and tell her of these glorius news.»  
Nerissa smiled, her white teeth shining in the dim light.  
A louder moan from behind her made her turn around briefly.  
It happened in the blink of an eye.  
Green eyes widened in shock and Thomas cursed.  
Enlightened by the torch right beside his door, Cassius was staring at her from a cell, gagged, bloodied and tortured, shackled to the wall, and was desperately trying to warn her of the trap.  
Nerissa twirled around and massive hands seized her, forcing her back against an armored chest, arms bent behind her and painfully held as far as they'd go up her back. Now she understood that those men weren't Cassius and his soldiers. She didn't struggle nor did she make a sound, too shocked and hurt to do anything but stare. Thomas stared back at her, all friendliness gone from his expression, replaced by a pained grimace.  
«Nerissa, I'm so sorry» he said in a sorrowful voice. «I swear I never wanted it to come to this».  
«Why?» was all she said. Her voice had fallen into a blank monotone, the same she used with her father when she was furious.  
Her eyes widened, though, when the men fastened shackles around his wrists.  
«I... I never-»  
«Quit it, Nash» one of the men growled. «Lord Reinheit is waiting, and you're still a prisoner.»  
«He has my sister, Nerissa!» he shouted desperately, tears streaming down his face. «He has my sister and if I didn't do as he said he'd have her gutted in front of me! She's only twelve, and she was so scared, please Nerissa forgive me!»  
The men dragged the both of them out of the dungeons.  
«What did you do to Mary?»  
Thomas sobbed. He'd never looked so young and vulnerable and Nerissa suddenly remembered that he was only eighteen.  
«He told me of what you've done to the ball, and ordered me to get you. Because you trusted me, because he knew you'd kill anyone that came close. But I... I couldn't...»  
«You could not come and get me yourself. Your conscience wouldn't allow you. So you made me come to you» she whispered, incredulous and betrayed. He'd used Mary to get to her, and now the sweet woman was probably alone, cold, terrified and tortured somewhere, as was Cassius and probably all his men.  
Thomas sobbed, letting the guard that had seized him drag him along the corridor. He didn't deny what Nerissa said and she knew she'd got it right.  
Nerissa could understand his plight, but that didn't stop her from being horribly angry at him.  
«You... you filthy traitor!» she screamed, struggling with all her might within the soldier's grasp. He grunted when a particularly strong kick landed on his legs, but he didn't release her. «You stabbed me when my back was turned! WHAT DID YOU DO TO MARY!»  
«I did nothing!» he screeched. Unlike her, he'd gone pliant in the man's grasp and was not fighting at all, desperate and hopeless. «I don't know what happened to her! Lord Reinheit wouldn't-»  
« _You left her with Abraham?!_ »  
 _No, no, no, no! This cannot be! She cannot be with him! He'll kill her!_  
«I couldn't refuse! Nerissa, please forgive me!»  
The guards, who had been fighting to shut them up all the while, just gave up. The man beside Thomas raised his hand and let it fall down on the boy's head, hard.  
Thomas went limp without a sound and despite her furious anger she screamed in anguish.  
«NO! THOMAS!»  
«Shut up, princess, or I'll be forced to do the same to you» the man hissed, raising a gloved hand threateningly.  
If glares could burn, he would have become a pile of ash that precise moment. But she couldn't proceed with her plan to kick him in the balls for they had arrived in the throne room.  
Abraham was smiling. The guards were grinning. Mary was just bleeding, looking at her with panic in her eyes.  
Nerissa gasped when she saw the sweet visage of her nursemaid. A large bruise was forming on her left cheek and her other eye was swollen and almost closed.  
 _Mary_...  
«Hello, my child» Abraham said sweetly as the guard who was holding Thomas threw him at his feet. «While I cannot say that I greatly missed your presence, it is nonetheless required. You have an oath to fulfill.»  
Nerissa growled. «Go to hell, you son of a bitch» she hissed. «What did you do to them? Release them immediately, they had nothing to do with this!»  
«Not directly, no. But they did help you in freeing those fledgling vampires, just like Cassius and the other members of this... _Alétheia_ of yours.»  
She hissed. After she'd saved Thomas, she would kill him.  
«My doing. Just my doing» she said, a touch of desperation staining her voice. «I induced them to-»  
«No.»  
Nerissa fell silent, too shocked to continue. It was the first time Abraham didn't deem her responsible.  
Not completely, at least.  
«Do not worry for them, though. They are only charged with high treason, and their deaths will be swift. You, on the other hand...»  
He sighed, shaking his head as if wondering why did it have to be him of all people to have such a degenerate child. «You have also been spotted talking with someone you really should have avoided. Our dear Thomas here followed you at the lake the last time you've been there. I still wonder why nor you nor Janos Audron have sensed him. But I guess you both were simply too caught up anticipating your next fuck to notice him.»  
Nerissa snarled, her cheeks burning despite her fear and rage. «We did not-»  
«Oh, isn't that sweet? _We_. Such familiarity between you two.»  
«Bastard» she hissed, trying to hide how much it had unsettled her that he'd used Mary's same words.  
«Yes, dear, you are. That whore of your mother had no respect for me at all... and judging by her exposure of you to the shame of being a bastard child, she clearly had no respect for you either.»  
«Do not dare talking about my mother so! She was a thousand times a better person than you'll ever be! _You're not half the man you think you are!_ »  
Abraham just chuckled. She wanted to grab him, to smash his head against a wall until his skull broke. She wanted to feel his blood dripping on her hands.  
«This is not about me, dear. This is about you. Now, where was I... ah, yes. I was going to send you to the Sarafan's stronghold just to have Lord Moebius teach you some manners, but seeing your latest profanation, I believe it is the most appropriate punishment I could have ever come up with.»  
«Fuck you.»  
«That's not my territory. It's Lord Moebius, should he choose to do so.»  
She snarled in blind ferocity. She just wanted to lunge at him and bite, bite, bite.  
«You should be grateful for his presence. He convinced me not to put an incandescent iron mask on your pretty face.»  
«You never had such qualms before.»  
He laughed. «Oh, come on, it was just a leg! I couldn't put _that_ on your face, it actually had a use then. But maybe now I could arrange that.»  
Abraham turned around, raking a hand through his blond hair. At his feet, Thomas moaned quietly, stirring.  
«Bring the girl» the governor said nonchalantly, all of a sudden.  
Nerissa could only watch in dread as a chestnut-haired girl was brought in. She was wailing and kicking her legs, screaming and calling for her brother, bruises and cuts marring her skin.  
«Hernais...»  
Thomas' voice was but a whisper. He was slowly rising on one arm, a hand outstretched to reach his young sister.  
Abraham smiled ever so gently, and Nerissa immediately knew what he was about to do.  
«NO! NO! LEAVE THE GIRL ALONE!»  
He turned to her, arching a curious brow. «Oh?»  
«She has nothing to do with any of this! The fault is _mine_ , leave her alone!»  
She could endure Abraham's whip. But Nerissa was sure that the baby girl could not.  
«Hmmm...»  
Abraham bent his head down, and Nerissa hoped he was considering her words.  
He was.  
He didn't whip the girl.  
Mary screamed.  
The blade cut through the girl's chest as if it was made of butter. She gasped in shock, going rigid in the soldier's grasp, deaf to her brother's desperate cry of her name. She only felt the cold metal inside her, first in her chest then down to her groin as Abraham Reinheit gutted her like a goat kid.  
Nerissa felt an uncontrollable urge to throw up as she saw the girls' guts fall to the ground with a wet thud, connected to her body by only a bloody fragment of intenstine. The organs pulsed wetly on the floor, dripping with blood, and Nerissa heard a long, dreadful, guttural sound ring in the air along Thomas' shrill screeches and understood that it was her, the sound was coming from her mouth. She felt wetness on her cheeks and suddenly knew she was crying and hadn't even noticed.  
The girl's head lolled back as she went limp in the guard's arms, mouth agape and brown eyes lifeless.  
Abraham straightened up, leaving the dagger where it was, embedded in the dead girl's hipbone.  
 _Why why why it was useless she was just a child why what was the need if you just had left her alone..._  
«This is what your petty act of rebellion brought» he said in a paternal tone, as if scolding her for having stolen sweets from the kitchens. «Remember that that is your fault only, not mine.»  
Nerissa couldn't take her eyes away from the corpse. Blood was splattered everywhere, staining the floor, the girl's skin, her clothes.  
The girl was gracelessly dumped to the ground and Nerissa could only watch helplessly from her captor's arms what was going on, her arms painfully numb. Thomas crawled over to the tiny corpse, crying his heart out and shedding all the tears in the world. Uncaring of the blood staining his clothes, he took her in his arms and cradled her to his chest, as if she was a little babe in need of comfort. Mary was crying in her corner, eyes wide and full of tears.  
 _You killed a child. You killed a child in cold blood._  
Nerissa raised her gaze on Abraham, who was looking at the scene as if vaguely sorry, the kind of expression one would have when hearing a earthquake had killed a million people on the other side of Nosgoth.  
He turned around and smiled sweetly at her. «Do not worry dear, your punishment is almost over.»  
Then he just nodded to the guards.  
This time the scream was Nerissa's, and the blood was the one of the people she'd grown up with.  
She didn't know how much time she spent there, crying out Thomas and Mary's names as if her voice could somehow bring them back to life. But Thomas remained there, lying on his dead sister's body, covering her corpse with his own as if to protect it from further abuse. And Mary didn't rise from the heap she'd fallen in, her lifeless eyes looking at Nerissa from a head no longer attached to the body.  
It was only when Abraham fisted her hair that she understood she was crying in truth, the agonizing pain of their loss crushing her down and robbing her of her breath. It was like her ears were filled with water, she couldn't hear anything but the roar of the desperation that was holding her down. It hurt, it hurt unbelievably, and it was all her fault.  
 _I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, I never wanted to oh God please don't do this kill me kill me instead but bring them back-_  
«And to think» Abraham whispered in her ear, «that I was the only one who truly loved you. And look at how you reward me. By killing a girl of twelve and her brother, by massacring your nursemaid. By giving me so much pain.»  
She sobbed brokenly, her vision blurry with tears.  
They were dead and it was all her fault.  
If she only had never told them about the Alétheia. If she only had never been born.  
Abraham let go of her hair. He looked weary, as if he'd just come home from a great hunt.  
The little girl had painted her nails blue.  
Nerissa jerked her head back and the guard screamed. She could clearly feel and hear the man's nose breaking.  
She whipped around and punched him in the face before anyone could do as much as blink. Eyes haunted like dark windows on an empty house, she ran.

. . .

Every single muscle in her body was begging her to stop moving, but she kept running, her breath coming in strangled gasps. Her heart pounded in her ears and her senses had wickedly heightened, as if to mock her by letting her perceive every single one of her last moments. Mad with terror, all efforts to keep a cool head dissolved in one single powerful wave of raw panic. Her rational mind vanished in a cloud of fear, leaving nothing more than pure physical instict behind.  
She hadn't paid attention to where she was going, letting her feet find the way. She almost fell into the water where it merged with the earth, the moon's reflection the only warning that the surface was no longer solid.  
Terrified beyond any imagination, Nerissa stumbled on the edge of Janos' lake, but didn't stop to think. She immediately started running to the left, raising silent prayers to whatever god there was in Nosgoth to let her live a little more, to let her run for sixty seconds more, sixty seconds only sixty seconds oh my God please don't let me die like this-  
«GET HER!»  
A sharp pain in her right ankle made her cry out. She stumbled on a fallen branch and fell to the ground, the hunting dogs immediately on her.  
Nerissa screamed and covered her face with her arms in a pathetic attempt at defending herself. She kicked one of the dogs in the muzzle, making it yelp and growl and bite her in her leg. Its sharp teeth dug into her skin, drawing blood, exciting the pack even more. They began biting her anywhere they could reach.  
Crying out in pain and terror, she felt around for a something, anything she could use to defend herself. Just as she moved her arm, one of the dogs, eyes bloodshot and ears back, dashed at her to sink its teeth in her throat.  
Green eyes widening, her hand closed around something large and hard and heavy. She hit the dog hard in the head with it, finding out it was a large grey stone, and the animal tumbled to the ground, blood and brain matter gushing out of its broken skull. Red liquid splattered on her face, stained the stone, dripped to the ground.  
The other dogs smelled the blood and jumped on their fallen companion, mauling it, ripping large chunks of blood-dripping meat off its body.  
Nerissa got up on shaky, bloody legs and began running again, taking advantage of the dogs' distraction but stumbling and wobbling with every step. Her lungs burned now and her heart hammered behind her ribs, each heartbeat a wave of liquid fear rushing in her veins.  
And then she felt an unexpected and burning blow in her back. A blow that shook her to her very core and made her slump down.  
As if time had slowed down, she saw the ground rise to meet her and the warm earth beneath her cheek. She felt the pain spread and an uncomfortable wetness on her back.  
The clattering of the soldiers' armors was coming closer and closer. With a burning effort, she forced herself up on trembling arms.  
 _(It's your fault only)  
(Killing a little girl and his brother, massacring your nursemaid)  
_She got up again and stepped forward, wobbling, feeling the arrow move with each movement she made. Pain was now burning in every inch of her being.  
Another blow. Another arrow. This time in her leg.  
 _Why do you keep struggling? You shall not keep on living, not after what you've done. After all this, at least have the decency of dying. Of falling._  
But this time she didn't fall. This time she screamed.  
And what she screamed was a name.  
« _JANOS!_ »

. . .

Janos couldn't sleep.  
It would have been easy to blame his cats, that had kept bugging him all evening. No matter how hard he tried, they just wouldn't stop meowing.  
But it was just an excuse, wasn't it? Maybe it was just that nagging feeling, the feeling that kept whispering that something was going to happen.  
He distractly petted Étienne on the head, making him purr from where he was comfortably nestled on his lap. The large grey cat looked at him with half-lidded yellow eyes, occasionally swiping at his clawed hand when he thought his talons were digging in too deep. Sprawled on the desk, Zoe slept peacefully, her honey-colored fur shining in the moonlight, tail swishing back and forth and occasionally brushing against his free hand.  
He had always used to have trouble finding sleep, even when he was young. He'd first thought that it was just a nuisance, when his mentor Valstrath Lancaster had spoken of new ways to see it.  
 _'Imagine insomnia not like a nuisance, but as though a most beautiful goddess had come to visit. You need to welcome her like the great landlady she is. What would she like to do? Listen to some music? Walk around in the gardens? Do what she wishes to do, and when you lay your head down next, you'll sleep peacefully.'_  
Tonight the goddess just wanted to wait. Wait and watch, as he fiddled with the golden ouroboros around his neck.  
That night, there were no sounds. The crickets were silent, the water's murmur was nowhere to be heard and even the stars shone weakly... as if they were holding their breath.  
Étienne and Zoe raised their heads, ears perked, as if listening. Their yellow gazes stared off into the night just outside the balcony.  
Coming from the distance like forgotten nightmares, he heard the angry bark of hunting hounds.  
« _JANOS!_ »  
The scream was as much mental as it was physical, and he felt a wave of dread wash over him like icy water. A fear he'd never known before clawed at his chest and he was up in a blur of white robes, scaring both cats off. Nerissa's voice had never sounded so desperate, so completely terrified. It was the voice he'd feared he would hear if he'd showed up, those months back.  
But it was not directed at him, and Nerissa had cried out his name as if it was her very last hope.  
All of this crossed his mind in less than a second as he bolted to the balcony, scanning the place to find her. And find her, he did, almost immediately.  
Nerissa was lying on her back, hair splayed around her head in a dark mass of black waves. Her hands were fastened around a blond man's wrists, and she was struggling wildly to get one last gulp of air as he chocked the life out of her.  
Great black wings spread in the warm air and the last of the Ancients took flight. _  
_He almost didn't register the air moving around him, or the ground beneath his feet as he landed. All he saw was that man's blind fury as he lifted the woman's head and then slammed it back on the hard cold rocks.  
Nerissa went limp without a sound. Her hands fell away and to her sides, and to Janos it was like going from light to dark.  
 _NO!  
_ The human rised his gaze and his jaw fell open in mute shock.  
Janos knocked him off Nerissa with a powerful hit of his wing. The blond-haired man hit the ground with a shrill cry as one of his left ribs broke with a sickening crack.  
Then he did something Janos would have never expected.  
That pained scream turned to a laugh.  
It was wrong, that laugh, devoid of any joy and full of all malices. The sound of it hurt Janos' sensitive ears like nails screeching on slate.  
The human rolled onto his good side and got up, his laugh never ceasing. Janos found himself crouching beside the unmoving body of Nerissa, covering her with his black pinions as if to protect her from the sound of it.  
«So it is true» the man said, smiling viciously. «She really had something to do with you».  
He looked familiar for some reason, and Janos found himself snarling, fangs bared, almost flinching at the alien sound coming from his throat after so many years.  
«Leave her alone, human. Go away while you still can» he growled. How dare he touch his beautiful harpist, how dare he hurt his beloved songbird-  
 _Yours?_  
The human cackled, drawing his sword. Janos stiffened and readjusted his wing on Nerissa's prone form.  
«Ah, I would» he said sweetly. «But it so happens that vampire heads are great trophies... and yours is the rarest of them all...»  
And Janos remembered his name. _Abraham Reinheit. Governor of Uschtenheim._  
He was the man who'd succeeded in putting an arrow in his wing, that cloudy day of so long ago. He'd been younger, barely reached adulthood, and so very frightened when he'd seen the arrow hit him, as if he thought he'd started something greater than him.  
 _But Abraham Reinheit had a daughter, with a woman of other lands... a child with long black curls and otherwordly green eyes...  
Oh dear God, he tried to kill his own child._  
Abraham cackled as realization dawned upon Janos, twisting his face in a grimace of horror. «I'd have your wings nailed on Uschtenheim's front gates».  
And he lunged.  
A millennium of war had taught Janos well. He dodged the man's blow in a blur of tunics, sending a telekinetic blast his way. He hadn't brought weapons with him, and the man's pressing attacks were too close in time to one another to allow Janos to conjure one from the armory. He quickly became aware that he wouldn't need one, though. Abraham was madly angry  
 _(or maybe just mad)_  
and his emotions were affecting the way he fought. His blows were erratic, strong but devoid of technique. His movements were comparable to spasms. Deathly ones, but spasms nonetheless.  
But in what he didn next, Janos comprehended that _mad_ wasn't synonim of _stupid_.  
Abraham grinned. It was insane, that grin, disgustingly knowing.  
His blue eyes darted to Nerissa's unmoving body.  
« _NO!_ »  
Janos' blast got him in the chest and Abraham was flung back, hitting a tree's trunk hard, the sword knocked from his grasp. Janos drew it to himself with a mere flick of his mind, ripping it away from the humans' frantic hands.  
Abraham looked into the vampire's eyes and knew that Death's scythe was rising for him.  
«Y'know what, vampire?» he gasped, crawling backwards and away from him. Janos saw how quickly his anger and bravado were subsiding, leaving nothing but desperate fear behind. «You spare my life, and I let you take her. All her blood for yourself. _Quid pro quo_. What do you say about that?»  
 _Why would... how could..._  
How could he be offering such a shameful trade? For all he knew, Janos was a bloodthirsty monster who craved nothing more than his daughter's suffering. How could a father trade his child's life for his own?  
«O-or maybe you'd prefer to fuck her?» Abraham said quickly, seeing the horrified expression upon Janos' face. «She's still a virgin, I bet you-»  
«If you value your life, you will not let another word past your lips» Janos said with deathly calm. He couldn't recall another time when he'd been so enraged, and for the first time in more than he cared to remember, he was not going to calm that anger.  
«You worthless, filthy piece of scum» he snarled. «How can you want her sacrifice? She's your _daughter_!»  
Suddenly the fear in Abraham's sapphire eyes disappeared, replaced by knowing, almost _seductive_ mockery. When he smiled ever so sweetly, Janos understood that he was utterly insane.  
«My name is Abraham, vampire» he said softly. Mockingly. «It should remind you something...»  
His vision going blood red, Janos struck.  
Abraham's maddened cackle died in a gurgle as the sword's blade pieced through his mouth, nailing him down on the ground. Blood spurted from the wound and stained Janos' clothes, splattering on his hands, some ending up on his high cheekbones.  
The man clawed at the earth beneath one last time, his blue eyes fixed in Janos' golden, furious ones. Then, with one last gurgling growl, flew from his lips his last breath of life.  
The ancient vampire stood still for a moment, staring down at the corpse -the sword's hilt sticking out from his mouth, the blade embedded in the ground to the last inch. Janos felt bile rising in his throath, more at the knowledge that he still was able to do something so gory than because of the morbid painting on display.  
 _What have I done?  
_ Slowly, he wiped the blood from his face, not caring if it ended up on his clothes, and turned around.  
Nerissa lay on the ground, the water lapping at her bare feet, unmoving.  
 _No, no, no, no, no, no, you cannot be dead, please don't, please don't, my beautiful harpist, my lovely songbird..._  
He was by her side in moments, praying. As he kneeled, lifting her head with the utmost gentleness, he saw her crimson blood streaking from her nose and mouth, breath rasping through crushed flesh. A dark bruise already blossoming on her left cheekbone.  
Janos felt white panic claw at his chest. When Abraham had slammed her head on the rocks, he hadn't only knocked her out, he'd also partially crushed her windpipe. That kind of damage needed healing spells that could not be casted without particular artefacts, artefacts that he didn't have on his person at the moment. He needed to reach his study, immediately, or he was sure Nerissa would exhale her last breath in his arms.  
Ever so gently, he hooked one strong arm beneath her knees and the other around her shoulders, very carefully lifting her. One of her arms was bent and covering her stomach, the other dangled uselessly at her side. Her head had fallen backwards, exposing her bloodied neck.  
He saw and ignored the soldiers in shining armor that were staring at him, dumbfounded and terrified.  
Janos shifted her a little so that her head dindn't dangle back and she could breathe more comfortably. Holding Nerissa securely to his chest, the Ancient unfurled his wings and leapt skywards, giving one single, powerful beat of his pitch black pinions, and vanished into the night.

. . .

Authoress' note:  
A special thanks to the guest who reviewed and made my day once again 3 thank you so much, you're awesome!  
I do not own in any shape or form the characters featured in this story -this also applies to the story's image cover and to the quotes at the beginning of each chapter. I only own my OCs and the story's plot.  
Comments please!  
Have a good day/night and love Legacy of Kain!


	10. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

 _Music is moonlight  
In the gloomy night of life_

 _. . ._

The flight to his balcony was brief, terribly so, and Janos thought about his dream of not so long ago, when he'd imagined how it would have been to gather Nerissa in his arms, her silvery laugh ringing in his ears, and fly into the warm late summer sky. He would have taken her to the mountain tops, would have showed her how Nosgoth spread far away in every direction, lying at their feet like a spread scroll. Never would he have thought that it would be like that -his green-eyed young songbird reduced to a bloody mess of bruises and broken bones, attached to life by only a thin thread.  
The wounds themselves were nor long nor large, but they were sadistically deep, bleeding profusely. The smell of her blood should have been overwhelming, the temptation to bite hard to resist. But the vampire was too concerned for her for such trivial insticts to take over.  
While he flew, he made sure not to move her around too much, and when he landed, it was with the utmost gentleness, so that it would cause the least discomfort possible.  
Her breathing was harsh, ragged, and barely audible. She looked dead, if not for the slight rising and falling of her chest, covered by a black shirt soaked with blood. Her natural scent of peach flowers, irises and summer wind was obscured by the smell of it and of something more putrid -the unmistakable stench of infection.  
Janos walked into his study and conjured a _chaise longue_ from his bedroom. He gently laid Nerissa upon it, her hair sticking to the drying blood on her clothes and face, and he gently pushed a curly lock out of the way.  
He summoned a silver medallion from where it rested -a small inlaid casket on a dusty shelf. It was a work of fine craftmanship, with scrolls and waves that treaded its whole surface, making it look almost liquid. In its centre was nestled a dark amethyst.  
The jewel itself didn't bear a spell, but the amethyst upon it acted as an energy receptacle, as did most of precious gems. Once he began his spell, it would slowly seep energy into both their systems, sustaining him through his spellweavings and helping her recover faster.  
Janos would thank it later, when he'd discovered just how much she would need to recover -not just physically speaking.  
He casted a signaling spell and stilled as all the injuries began to gently tug at his mind, announcing their presence with a soft mental glow. It was as if each one of them was pulling his attention towards it, and Janos worried at how many they were.  
Warring with the whirlwind of emotions that wanted to take his mind over, Janos set to work. Though her back was glowing harder, he took care of her windpipe first, since it was the most delicate area he'd have to heal. The spell was simple and the cartilages returned meekly to their proper place, allowing her to breathe normally. The broken jaw proved to be just as simple, while the right wrist was a much more difficult injury. It had probably broken as she'd fallen under Abraham's weight, and the bone had splitted in two and slid out of its original position, making her right hand and arm look as if she had an unnatural joint connecting them. The spell he used was more complicated, but he brought the operation off without incident.  
Just as he was gently laying her hand back down, knowing he shouldn't admire her long, tapered fingers but doing so anyway, his eye was caught by a tiny little mark just above her wrist. If the sleeve of the shirt she was wearing hadn't torn in that precise place, he would never have noticed it. Later, he would have thought of the hand of destiny.  
He brushed the two halves of the tear away and frowned.  
It was a scar.  
It was small, a little white mark that shouldn't have preoccupied him. But he found himself pulling the sleeve further up, and what was brought to light made his stomach lurch.  
One by one, scar after scar was revealed, piled one upon the other until her arm looked as though someone had pushed metal bars underneath her skin. Some of them were new, already sealed but still tender -and Janos had seen the horrors of the battlefield, knew how to tell the difference between wounds from a dagger, an arrow or a Hylden's claws, the difference between accidental injuries and purposefully inflicted wounds.  
 _It was him. It was him and you know it._  
He suddenly wished Abraham Reinheit was alive, so that he could kill him all over again.  
Janos looked at Nerissa's visage, with those otherworldly eyes closed and perfect lips splattered with blood. Her eyes moved frantically beneath her lids and her hands were closed into desperate fists.  
Janos decided to leave the marks on her arms alone, since they were mostly healed, and to take care of her back. With the utmost care, he laid her down on her stomach and, though he'd been as delicate as if he were dealing with a creature made of glass, she hissed in her troubled unconsciousness.  
The shirt was bloodied and completely riuned, sticking to her skin. It would have to come off.  
Respecting her privacy as much as he could, he tore it open at her back, and suddenly was happy she was unconscious.  
«Dear God» he whispered, and his stomach lurched.  
Her back looked like dried mud crossed by cracks. Scars piled upon scars to cover every inch of exposed, hardened skin, thick and old and new and raw. With only one glance, he counted fifty marks, fresh, open and bleeding, smelling of blood and infection. Beneath them, Nerissa's back was marred by hundreds of whitish, older marks, and by black and violaceous bruises.  
Janos stared at the grisly display with some kind of horrified fascination, as if he were reading a book so disgusting that he felt forced to finish it. It was only when Nerissa stirred that he was brought back to reality.  
He found himself silently thanking the medallion for the energy it infused in the both of them, the greater part of it directed at his harpist's prone form. As he healed each slash so that it wouldn't leave scars, curing the infection that coursed in her veins, he began to feel more and more exhausted -not terribly so, but just enough to make him understand that he would have to skip the less serious injuries if he wanted to be able to heal all the worse ones. Healing spells were simple enough, but took a great deal of energy out of the spellweaver.  
It was the dead of night when Janos was finally done. He felt tired, the continue flow of energy the medallion sustained him with wasn't even nearly enough to give him his full strenght back. But Nerissa seemed to be sleeping a more peaceful slumber, and of that he was glad.  
The blood on her skin had dried, but instead of casting a new spell to remove it, as more magic would have tired him even further, he decided to take her to his bath chambers. As he lifted her, careful to keep the shirt on her chest, he could not help but wonder at the slender muscles that adorned her arms and back. He was sure that if she were to punch someone, the force of the hit would have been enough to break bones. He wondered whether it was natural physique or training-created musculature, and if it was the latter, why would a lady wish to grow such strenght?  
The angry bruise on her cheekbone had disappeared along the others, and yet many wounds still throbbed and voiced their pain. Her eyes had stilled beneath her lids, though, and her slumber looked deeper, more natural. Her hands were open, long fingers finally relaxed. As he walked out of his study, one of them weakly grabbed his tunic, and he felt warmth flood his breast.  
The pool in his bathroom was already filed with rock oil -slightly ticker than water and just as clear, it was perfect to use were the user to find actual water acidic. He did his best not to stare, though he remained unable not to look at the scars that marred her skin.  
 _They are so many. You are so strong, child, so strong.  
_ He threw the black shirt and the bloodied pants away, replacing them with a white robe he took from his own closet. It wasn't feminine in the least, but he doubted she would be offended -after all, the previous clothes weren't ladylike either.  
By the time he was done, Nerissa was sleeping peacefully in his bed, curled up in the blankets with a serene expression on her face. Janos gently brushed a dark curl from her face, feeling its slight dampness from the bath, and marvelled at how the black became blue and indigo and gold as the light of the torches got trapped in it.  
Knowing that he wouldn't be able to fall asleep anyway, Janos decided to let her sleep there for the remainder of the night. He left the room on silent footsteps, closing the door behind his back, with one last glance to her sleeping visage.

. . .

Janos had thought that, given the severity of her wounds, Nerissa would have slept throughout the day. But when one of his servants came to him in a rush, panting that their guest had awoken, he knew that she wouldn't be given such respite.  
He was in the corridor when he heard the sobs. They were low and quiet, almost unnoticeable, as if the one that was emitting them was trying, unsuccessfully, to stifle them with all their might. Laced with what he could only describe as utter despair, they echoed damply off the walls of the corridor and made Janos' heart clench.  
He softly knocked on the door when he was in front of it, and the sobs immediately stopped, as if the one who was making them was holding their breath. After a couple of seconds, though, he heard Nerissa say 'Enter' in a very low voice, a tone that spoke of grief and resignation.  
Janos slowly opened the door, heart clenching when he saw Nerissa curled on the bed, eyes wet but still tearless. Her black hair fell about her shoulders like a dark cascade, shielding almost all of her features from him.  
Her head shot up when she saw him, and a spark of light ignited in her eyes for a brief moment, leaving but incredulity behind.  
«Janos...?» she whispered, as if she feared that if she raised her voice but for a tiny little bit he would disappear into ashes.  
He smiled kindly at her, cautiously taking a step forward. When she didn't react, he walked to the bed and sat down on its edge, careful not to crush his black feathers in the process. Her scent of flowers and summer wind was even more powerful up close, and he found himself relishing in it.  
«Greetings, my lady» he said. «You're up early. I thought you'd sleep at least until tomorrow afternoon. How are you feeling?»  
«I am well, thank you. Where are we?»  
«We are in my humble home in the mountains. You are safe here, Nerissa» he said gently.  
Nerissa's gaze pierced him as she asked her next question. «Where is he?» she asked, voice laced with venom and danger.  
Janos didn't need to be explained who 'he' was, and his eyes hardened. «He's dead, child. He cannot hurt you now.»  
She smirked bitterly. «No. No, he cannot. All the hurt he could have done, he's done it before having the decency of dying.»  
Nerissa looked away, out of the window and into the nothingness. The vampire saw a lonely tear shine in the morning light as it trickled down her cheek.  
«Child, please, don't cry» he murmured. «He is not worth your tears».  
«It's all my fault» she whispered. «They are all dead and it is all my fault».  
«How can it be your fault, while living with someone such as him?» Janos asked softly, reaching out to touch her shoulder. She shied away from his touch, and he felt a flash of hurt sizzle through him.  
«I should have never told them of the Alétheia» she said, and her voice wasn't just _broken_ -it was shattered in a thousand pieces. She buried her face in her hands and started sobbing, the sound making Janos' heart clench. «I should have never endangered them so... I killed them, I killed them all, I'm a murderer, gods above _I'm a monster just like him!_ »  
Janos felt a surge of anger at her words. How could she compare herself with that... that...  
Without thinking he took her in his arms, her body fitting against his like two pieces of the same puzzle. He felt her hands grip at his shoulders as she hid her visage in the collar of his tunic, sobbing, forgetting everything about race, gender, privacy. Janos was still mortal enough to understand when the ones before him just needed to _exist_. And exist they did, in that moment of sorrow, one grieving, the other trying to lift the grief with pitch black wings.  
Janos called her name softly, again and again and again, until her sobs started to fade. Eventually she just remained there, motionless, unable to let go of his tunic, slightly dampened by her tears.  
Janos held her just the tiniest bit tighter, feeling his heart swell with unexpected  
 _(oh please don't make me laugh)_  
joy as if he were flying over the sea again, despite the obvious distress she was in. He felt her shoulders shake in tiny, teary attempts at laughter. «How pathetic, huh?» she said, wiping away the wetness from her cheeks. «Though I stand tall and proud, it takes but a blow of the wind to make me fall apart. What will you think of me now? Such weakness.»  
«People don't cry because they are weak» Janos said softly. «People cry because they've been strong for too long.»  
Nerissa shifted and he allowed her to move away. She looked at him for a moment, then looked away, eyes red and puffy.  
«Sorry» she muttered. «I messed up your tunic».  
«Do not concern yourself with it» he said, a small smile touching his lips.  
«I could have burnt you.»  
«Your tears would have done naught to nothing to a vampire's skin.»  
«And I did not even thank you for all you did for me.»  
«You did it just now, even if you should not be too precipitant in doing so. For all you know, I could have brought you here just to suck you dry» he jested quietly, trying to pull a smile from her lips.  
She looked at him with, thank God, brighter eyes, if just by a little bit. «You're too kind for your own good».  
He smiled a little. «You are not alone in that belief. Would you like to talk about what happened last night?»  
Nerissa sighed sadly. «Well, I guess I could very well tell you» she said bitterly, but with a bitterness, he sensed, that was not directed at him. «Ever heard of the Alétheia?»  
Janos nodded. He had indeed, and had wondered many a time about what their motives would be in searching alliances with the vampires. After all, they were no vampire worshippers, that much he knew, but they were not Sarafan either. They, it seemed, just sought to stop the war that was tearing Nosgoth and his race apart.  
«A powerful council» he commented. «They achieved great things over the years».  
Nerissa shook her head sadly, turning around to look out of the window. She drew her arms to her chest, staring off into nothingness.  
«We _were_ powerful, just the day before yesterday» she said lowly. «Allies scattered all over Nosgoth, ready to fight, to spill bloodand to _die_ , all to stop a war that would have threatened and, most likely, killed our children.»  
«You were part of it?»  
«I created it.»  
Janos' eyes widened. The most wanted human in Nosgoth was sitting mere inches from him, then?  
He refrained from commenting. Nerissa seemed to take his silence for what it was -a hint to continue.  
«I never realized one of my closest friend was being blackmailed. Abraham had taken his sister, a twelve-years-old little thing, and had threatened to kill her in front of him if he didn't spy on me. When two fledgling of Vorador's were taken to Uschtenheim to be executed, only to be freed by us that same night, he went to Abraham and told him everything. He told our names, what we had done, and what I, in particular, had done. He'd followed me to your lake, had seen us together.»  
Janos listened with a growing sense of dread. Penance for those who allied themselves with vampires was either death, or torture. Nerissa hadn't 'allied' herself with him, at least not in the immediate meaning of the word, but she'd not come to him with swords and bloodfury either.  
Had that been the reason for the still-bleeding marks he'd found on her body?  
«Abraham wanted to send me to the Sarafan's fortress. I bet he found it quite a fitting punishment. But first he decided to land some blows himself. He made me watch as he killed my friend, his sister and my nursemaid, the woman who'd been like a mother to me. Told me it was all my fault...»  
Her voice, which had begun wavering way before mid-way, broke on the last words. «I ran. I ran away. I still live and they are dead and it's all my fault».  
Nerissa hid her face in her hands, the sobs once more starting to wreck her body. The woman didn't seem to be able to control that river of water, and Janos felt sadness and disbelief rise in his chest. «No. Nerissa, please, don't say that. It was not your fault and you know it» he said, placing a bifid, blue-skinned hand on her shaking shoulder. «He killed them just to torture you, to lead you to think that you are the monster. You are not a monster, child.»  
«I told them of what I was doing» she sobbed helplessly. «If I-»  
«Did you force them to join you in your quest for freedom, Nerissa?»  
The woman raised her gaze, finally meeting his golden eyes. Transparent tears were running down her cheeks and occasional hiccups still wracked her, but she was looking at him, and listening.  
«N-no» she said eventually. «But...»  
«My dear, they joined you knowing full well what they would have to face. They knew the risks, the dangers, but chose to follow you nonetheless. Do not insult their memory and their choice by speaking as if you'd commanded them to do so.»  
Nerissa looked at him through a veil of tears for a few moments more, then turned away, hastily wiping them away with the back of her hand. Janos could sense that she still blamed herself for what had happened, but she looked to be a little better, and so he was not going to complain. She would understand that the blood of her friends only reddened Abraham's dead hands.  
«Thank you» she whispered. «I do not know how to thank you enough. That made me feel... a lot better, despite everything».  
«You need not thank me, child. I am glad I have been able to pull you from that man's clutches, that is all.»  
«I... owe you, Janos Audron. I swear I will find a way to repay you» she said, turning to face him with those liquid emeralds that were her eyes.  
 _You repay me every time you draw a breath, Nerissa. You do not know the anguish I felt when I thought you dead_.  
«There is no need for that, my lady» he reassured with a smile. He was getting up from his seated position on the bed when he remembered something. «Ah, I am a most shameful host. You must be hungry after everything that went on last night. Would you like to take a bath while I arrange for food to be brought?»  
Nerissa smiled, getting up as well. The white tunic he'd dressed her in looked beautiful as the fabric rested on her figure. «Yes, I'd like that very much. Though I must ask you...»  
She paused, looking at him from beneath long, dark eyelashes. «What did you see when you healed this body? What did you find?»  
Ah, he'd been expecting that question for a good while now. He would have been a fool if he hadn't, after all, one could hardly miss the different clothes and alleviated pain. He smiled fondly at her.  
«I will not lie to you, Nerissa. I found scars, and ones you should be proud of bearing. They testify that you have fought -that you survived, and that you're still breathing. You are alive, child, and the only horror that can be found in those scars is that of the knowledge of how they were created. Wear your scars with pride, Nerissa, because only those who fought have scars to show.»  
Nerissa looked at him as if he'd somehow grown another head. It was clear that she'd never expected such words to leave his mouth.  
Janos smiled softly as he reached out with his hand. She took it with small hesitation, breath hitching when he drew her hand to his lips to place a feather-light kiss on her knuckles.  
«You are a strange creature, Janos Audron» she said eventually.  
«Well, strange may not always be good, but at least it's different.»

. . .

Vorador read through the letter carefully. His initial mirth and contempt had turned to seriousness and shock once he'd looked at it, more due to his returned fledglings' insistence than imaginary intents or curiosity.  
He'd heard of the Alétheia, obviously, and had always thought they were a bunch of fools. But now, with the two fledglings before him, the letter in his hand and those shocking news in his mind, he could ignore them no longer.  
«Are you sure?» he asked, raising his gaze from the piece of paper. His yellow eyes pierced the blue ones of the younger of the two, making them both fidget in apprehension. Fools. It was not like he was going to kill them -not after they'd been returned to him in the most inexpected way.  
«We cannot be one hundered percent certain, my lord» he answered, shifting uneasily under his scrutiny, «but we are fairly sure of it».  
Hmmm.  
A woman with his sire's scent on her body.  
 _It seems that a visit is in order for this, father._

. . .

Authoress' note:  
I owe you all a huge apology for the delay in writing this chapter. It simply wouldn't get itself done and even now that it is finished I feel it still limps. Forgive me.  
That said...  
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR REVIEWS! I LOVE YOU ALL, YOU MADE ME SO SO SO HAPPY!  
Seriously, I didn't expect so many comments! Thanks you all, this means an awful lot to me 3  
I do not own in any shape or form the characters featured in this story -this also applies to the story's image cover and to the quotes at the beginning of each chapter. I only own my OCs and the story's plot.  
Comments please!  
Have a good day/night and love Legacy of Kain!


	11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

 _Music  
Is the strongest form of magic_

. . .

«So» Nerissa said with a mirthful smile, «no dark castles hidden in the mountains. No moats, no coffins, no bats...»  
Janos smiled as she petted Étienne. The large grey cat had immediately taken a liking to her, while Zoe, always the suspicious one, was currently staring at her while being curled on the spare chair.  
«Even if you'll probably do find a bat or two, hidden somewhere, did you actually expect all that? »  
«Well, maybe not the coffins. With your wings and all.»  
Janos shook his head, still smiling, warm feelings he couldn't quite name making his heart flutter. He almost found it unreal, that he was sitting at the table in his study with Nerissa seated just across it, toying with the blood red apple she'd chosen from the fruit basket. She took a bite out of it, curiously looking around.  
«I never thought you'd need a fireplace» she said, eyeing it. «Do you even feel the cold?»  
«I... do feel it. Not as strongly as you humans feel it, but I do. Our species must be stronger to fly, the sky is not a warm place after all.»  
Nerissa turned her head to look at him and her curls swayed. Her eyes shone bright, their dark color enhancing her perfect skin's pallor. Her dark eyebrows were quirked in an expression of silent questioning.  
«But surely the air gets warmer the closer one is to the sun?» she asked, tilting her head to the side.  
«No, not really. We could say that the earth is jealous of the warmth the sun offers her, and keeps it within instead of letting it escape into the sky. So the further up you are, the colder it gets... and the more difficult it is to breathe.»  
«How is it possible that there is air here, and not up there?»  
He shook his head. «That, my lady, I do not know.»  
«Stop calling me 'my lady', you overgrown crow» she said absently, turning again towards the balcony.  
«Ah, is that how they refer to me in Uschtenheim?» he asked with a smirk, quirking an elegant eyebrow.  
«No, it's something I came up with just now. What's his name?» she asked, pointing at the cat in her lap.  
«His name is Étienne. The other is Zoe. Do not ask me why those names, they kind of came by themselves.»  
«What, did you just start calling them Étienne and Zoe all of a sudden?»  
«Yes, kind of, actually. I like to think those are their true names, and they just communicated them to me.»  
Nerissa laughed, only to cough as soon as she'd begun. Janos stood up in concern, but she held a hand up to stop him. The ancient vampire waited until the fit had ceased, walking to her as she groaned and clutched her head.  
«Sorry» she apologized. «My head throbs still. It won't stop. It's making me dizzy».  
«No need to apologize, child. Does it hurt?» he asked.  
«Just a little. There's no need of that concotion of yours, its taste does more harm than good» she said with a grin.  
He chuckled, a sound that sounded alien even to his own ears, so much was the time that had passed since he'd last heard it. «I know, it's disgusting. It does miracles with aches, though. Maybe you should drink a little more of it, just to be sure.»  
Nerissa sighed dramatically. «If you say so. Will you show me around after I do?»  
«Of course. Here, drink.»  
He handed her a glass goblet mid-way filled with transparent liquid. One could have mistaken it for water, hadn't it been for its foul stench of rotten eggs.  
«What on Nosgoth did you put in it to make it smell so?» she asked, both curious and nauseated, taking a sip and swallowing quickly. Janos smiled at her grimace of disgust. «No, I changed my mind. I don't want to know» she cawed, and Janos openly laughed.  
She put the empty goblet down and took another bite of her apple, sighing in relief when its sweet taste chased away the foul one of the healing draught.  
«I like your laugh» she said suddenly, looking away from him. Janos couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw a faint blush appear on her cheeks. The comment made a warm feeling swell in his chest, making his nerve endings tingle, and his feathers bristle. «I know I'll sound selfish... but it... it makes me... feel better. About what happened.»  
Janos smiled sadly. He wished she would tell him what had really happened, but he also knew that she would need time. Time to let go of her misplaced guilt and to turn her grief into healthy anger. Maybe, one day, even forgiveness.  
But not today.  
«I'd do anything within my power to make you feel better» he said lowly. «Know that I'll be there if you ever feel you need someone to talk to.»  
Nerissa smiled at him, a sad little stretch of lips that didn't reach her eyes. «Thank you so much, Janos» she whispered. «I owe you... again».  
He shook his head. «Don't even mention it. Now, my fair lady, would you like that tour of the vampire's den?» he asked, getting up as he playfully held out a bent arm.  
He didn't expect her to actually take it, but it was what she did. Laughing that beautiful laugh of hers, she placed a graceful white hand on his offered arm and smiled. «Since you asked so nicely, my lord» she said playfully.  
Janos smiled and led her out of his study, followed closely by both cats. Their steps echoed in the halls of the Aerie, but for the first time since forever, Janos heard another set of steps alongside his own.  
It was a beautiful sound. Especially knowing who was making it.  
She followed him curiously as he showed her the great balconies of his home, its beautiful, frozen halls with those high, oh so high ceilings, and the hall he himself had helped to build, the one with bloodfountains, bridges suspended in mid-air and the ever-watching eyes. The puzzle still laid there, unresolved, waiting.  
«Are those... blood basins?» Nerissa asked quietly, and Janos stiffened.  
He should have thought of that -what would she think of him now?  
A small part of his mind, the one which desperately craved her company, frantically argued that she already knew what he was, that she'd never said anything of it before, that she'd never treated him as a vampire, just as Janos -just _Janos_.. _.  
_ But another part of him, the rational one, told him that that wasn't an excuse. He should have never, ever brought her there.  
 _And what then? Let her discover by herself what kind of a monster you are?_  
«Nerissa... I... I would never-»  
A white finger to his black lips silenced his worries.  
«You think too much» she said, her low voice echoing in the air. «I only asked because it's... not your style. You're not so macabre.»  
He froze even further on his spot. The muscles in his wings were beginning to protest, but he couldn't bring himself to relax them back down.  
«We were in a quite macabre state of mind when we built this hall, Nerissa» he murmured.  
She comfortingly put a hand on his arm. Janos wondered at the way she touched him -gentle and so natural, as if she had no problems with that at all. Her hand felt cool on his skin, as if she'd just taken it out of cold water.  
«You're warm» she said lowly. «They always said that vampires have ice cold skin».  
He smiled a little. «Other vampires do. They are dead and their skin acts consequently».  
Nerissa lifted her gaze. «So you are... still alive?»  
«My heart still beats in my chest, yes.»  
The expression on her face could make the stars look as if they were not shining. Framed by dark curls, eyes shining bright and a lovely smile on her lips, her visage was easily the most beautiful thing Janos had ever seen.  
«You are a most incredible creature» she said gently.  
He chuckled, a sound laced with bitterness. «You have not seen me, Nerissa... not all of me. The things I have done...»  
Nerissa turned her head away, looking down where the blood basins were. The light reflected itself on her hair, creating golden reverberations on the soft black locks. The white tunic clung to her body and outlined her curves, generous but not overly wide, graceful and soft.  
«I haven't seen all» she murmured. «But that goes for you too, you know?»  
Janos' eyes widened slightly and he shifted as she turned, her hand resting on his arm no more. Her eyes spoke of blood and pain, not all directed towards her from others. Sometimes  
 _(maybe more than just sometimes)_  
it was her directing pain to others. Sometimes, it was the other way around. Sometimes it was another, the bloodied and bruised face that looked from beneath matted hair.  
«I've seen how you look at me» she said. «Not the usual insolent look of men. Yours is sweet and sincere... and that is even worse. Because I've hurt my fair share of people too. But most of all, because I can be cruel if I want to be. Because you do not see the monster within, and look at me as if I were an angel that had landed in front of you.  
«But I don't have wings, so flying with me won't be easy... because I'm not an angel.» Her head turned away and she closed her eyes. «I'm not an angel.»  
«Neither am I, Nerissa» he said lowly. «But do we really need to be angels? It would be so reductive of what we are».  
She paused. The silence stretched out until he feared he'd said something wrong, but then she broke it again.  
«You're right. We do not need to be angels. It is but another mask... and I do not wish to wear masks any longer». She turned to him. «Not with you.»  
«Come» he whispered. «Let us find somewhere less morbid».  
Nerissa smiled fondly at him and nodded, following him back and leaving the hall behind. He led her to one of the highest balconies, overlooking the mountains on the other side of the lake. It was silent and peaceful there, with the pleasantly cool wind blowing softly, not yet frozen from the cold harshness of winter.  
He gently took the hand she'd rested on his arm, her almond shaped nails brushing his azure skin. He brought it to his lips, a gesture that he knew could bring comfort without being too intimate.  
Then why did it feel so warm to kiss her hand like this? And why, while being so warm, did it leave behind the coldness of yearning, of quiet and desperate longing?  
Oh, and wasn't that one of the stupidest questions he'd ever wondered?  
Didn't he know why?  
He knew. He _knew_.  
His treacherous mind had him picture himself holding Nerissa in his arms in mere moments -his wings wrapped around the both of them, those same lips he was covering her knuckles with, closed on her mouth, her eyes covered by her pale lids and his hands in her hair...  
It was terryfing.  
It was wonderful.  
He wanted it to stop.  
He wanted it to _never stop again_.  
Janos took a deep breath.  
 _No_. _She deserves someone young, beautiful, and_ human _. And even if your feeling were mutual, it would be too dangerous for her to be with you. And what life could you offer her? To stay here, in this place, for the rest of eternity? Your burden isn't hers. You have to let her go.  
Let her go._  
But oh, how that thought hurt. He'd let his guard down, he realized it now, and had _fallen_ , hard, and now the thought of letting her go made his heart constrict and ache.  
 _Oh, my Nerissa, your eyes can make me so selfish...  
_ «Janos...»  
He realized he'd spaced out and raised his gaze, meeting the emerald one of his guest.  
Nerissa reached up and the back of her long white fingers almost touched his cheekbone in a whisper of a caress, in the same way he'd done, back during their meeting at the lake. Her fingers never touched his face though, coming but a breath away and stopping.  
«You took my masks» she whispered. «My masks and my veils... torn at your feet, nothing more than spider webs. The way you look at me...»  
Wonder clouded her eyes and she drew her hand back. Janos let her look at him, feeling as she was probing his very soul with those astonishing green orbs, missing the butterfly touch of her fingers on his face. Her eyes slid over his form, taking him in, looking at him in a way that made him feel exposed, vulnerable, and yet safe, warm, and secure.  
Nestled on the cool stone floor, their bodies had suddenly found one another, and she now lay in his lap, her back to his chest. In other circumstances Janos would have been uneasy at the closeness, but right then, there was nowhere he would rather be.  
«May I?» she murmured. Janos looked down, at those white fingers crowned by long, almond shaped nails, and nodded his head once, eyes lidded and shining golden.  
Her soft fingers laced between his own azure ones as she took his hands in hers, bringing them up, exploring. Her fingers traced his, thicker and stronger than hers, ending in long, elegantly curved black claws. Her touch was light, gentle and careful, as if she was afraid to hurt him. No one had ever touched him thus since the Blood Curse.  
«I have dreamed of you» he murmured suddenly. The moment the words left his lips, he wished to take them back... but the look in her eyes when she turned to face him told him that there was no need for it. Their faces were just inches apart, her scent of summer eclipsing any lingering doubt and fear.  
«Yes, the air was warm, as it is now. You were hidden among the trees of the forest, your eyes dark pools of emerald in the dying light... you were beautiful».  
His right hand rose and cupped the side of her face, his thumb brushing her cheek just under her eye. Her skin was soft beneath his palm, the same palm that pulsed with his heartbeat -a heartbeat he felt in his temples, in his chest, in the hollows of his eyelids. The world narrowed, fell away until it comprised nothing but this, the flow of unmistakable attraction between them, their strange mental connection raw with it.  
«You are beautiful» he murmured.  
Nerissa's eyes fell closed and Janos, eyes half-lidded and golden as ever, leaned in, his heart hammering in his chest as loudly as thunder.  
Their lips almost brushed, a ghost of a touch that made their hearts flutter.  
The stir in the air came as unexpected as it was unwelcome, and both human and vampire jumped at its sudden tug. Their eyes flew open, meeting in mutual embarrassment, and they hastily wrenched apart, Nerissa's cheeks flushed a pale red that stood out against her pallor. Janos inwardly cursed the one he knew had caused that stir, ripping them apart and causing that unpleasant _impasse_.  
Nerissa smiled faintly. «What was that?» she asked, quickly changing subject.  
Janos shook his head, still a little shaken from the almost kiss. Their lips had barely touched, and yet there he was, pupils wide, wings held rigidly and feathers bristled, his heart thundering wildly in his chest...  
«I have a suspicion» he said, a little of his concern slipping into his voice. Nerissa immediately noticed it, by the way her eyes sparkled, but decided against saying anything. «I must ask you to retire to your chambers and remain there until I deem it safe for you to come out. I'm afraid he is...»  
«I know» she said, smiling that sad little smile that made Janos wish to hold her close once more. «Is he so bad?»  
Janos shook his head. «No, child, he is not. I am surprised you actually bothered to ask. Many just stop at his muscle and anger.»  
«Thank God I am not like 'many'» Nerissa said playfully. «And besides... you didn't stop at my scars either, did you?»  
Janos smiled and led her back inside. He knew Vorador would be waiting in his study, a frown firmly in place on his green-skinned visage, seeking counsel as he had done so many times before.  
«I was being serious when I told you to stay in your rooms» Janos whispered. «I do not intend to cage you, but I do not wish to see you hurt. Vorador can be quite... impulsive when it comes to humans.»  
«Is that so?» she asked in a mildly amused tone. «I would have never guessed».  
Janos chuckled softly and accompanied her to her chambers. There he let his hands linger around hers, unwilling to let them go.  
«Nerissa... as for before, I-»  
«Ssshh.»  
Her voice hushed him softly, with a small smile that could have put the stars to shame.  
«Do not apologize for something we both wanted, Janos. You'd spoil the moment and I want to treasure it as perfect as it was. Now go, I'm sure Vorador is impatiently waiting for you.»  
And she reached up on her tiptoes, her hands never letting go of his, and placed a delicate kiss on his high cheekbone.  
Janos' breath hitched and his wings flared. As their foreheads came to rest against one another, he wished Vorador had better timing than that.  
Leaving her like that was the hardest thing Janos had ever done. When he arrived in his study and saw Vorador, though, his regret turned to concern.  
«My child» he said softly. Vorador grimaced, as if the words had somehow annoyed him... or had hurt.  
«You have the Sarafan at the feet of your retreat» he hissed, thin lips pulled back and fangs in full show. The contrast of the fine lothing and his predatory stance, the pure white fangs against his skin's dark forest green was viscerally terrifying, as were his yellow glowing eyes -the kind of glow of the monsters that live under the bed.  
«I am aware» Janos said, approaching him with the same love he'd always showed his short-tempered fledgling, his tone falsely light.  
 _They have burned Nerissa's harp beneath my gaze_.  
Thank God she'd been unconscious then. He still hadn't told her, didn't know how to. The way the strings had snapped from the heat, the smell of burning wood, the destruction of the very object that had brought them together...  
«They didn't know where your Aerie was. What has happened?»  
«We both knew it couldn't be kept a secret forever. They would find out, sooner or later. Why are you so upset, my son?» Janos asked, his tone soft.  
Vorador snarled viciously. Anyone would have been terrified by the deep rumbling sound that came out of his throat, but Janos knew him well, and knew that growls and hisses weren't - _usually_ \- the clouds that brought the tempest. It was when Vorador went very quiet that one needed to be careful.  
«Too many _alien_ things are happening» he growled. «First two of my captured children are returned to me by bloody human cattle. Then I get a letter from said cattle in which they write they are the infamous Alétheia and want to seek alliance with me. And last, I hear that the governor of Uschtenheim died on his own sword, pierced through his mouth by the hands of the _demon in the mountains_. That the Sire I seemingly knew so well kidnapped the fair princess of the city for his own.»  
Vorador took a step closer, not expecting Janos to back down -which, indeed, he didn't. The winged vampire just stood still, patiently waiting for the most part of Vorador's anger to cool down. But then Vorador's voice dropped to a low, threatening hiss, and his wings spread slightly in warning.  
«How much of those rumors is true?» the younger vampire snarled, rage coming off of him in waves. Janos' wings spread further, feathers bristled, in an unusual display of mingled irritation, worry and exasperation.  
«With what intentions do you ask that?» he asked back, voice just a little bit more stern.  
Vorador hissed, enraged, and Janos found himself wondering why. It was petty to say, even to think, but didn't he kill and kidnap all the time? It was the reason they'd argued so fiercely the time before. Vorador had just kidnapped and killed the daughter of a lord, and had announced he was going to dump her body on her father's doorstep. He'd said it with a satisfaction that had made Janos want to wrap his wings around himself. The ancient vampire had said that for that one kill, ten vampires were going to die in return, and that had triggered Vorador's anger... an anger, Janos had thought -or maybe just hoped- as he caught his feldgling's eyes, born of _guilt_...  
«So it is true, then?» Vorador asked, incredulous. «Not only you defend them at every turn, you've come as far as to keep one as _pet_?»  
«Do you think so little of me?» Janos answered, more than just a little irritated at the insinuation. «She is no one's _pet_ , as you so sophisticatedly put it, and you of all people should know that I would _never_ keep anyone in such slavery».  
«And yet you kidnap her from her own father and bring her here, where she can't escape» Vorador taunted mockingly.  
Janos' wings flared out at their fullest in a sudden, uncharacteristically angry manner. _Kidnapping_? From a man who was going to slam her head into the rocks until her skull cracked open?  
«Since when do you pay any heed to what the humans say?» he asked. «None of them saw what I've seen. I did not kidnap her. Nerissa called for help and I was able to grant it to her.»  
«Of course» Vorador huffed. «Nerissa? Is that her name?»  
«It is.»  
The green-skinned vampire seemed calmer now. He had stopped snarling and his breathing was slower. The atmosphere itself seemed cooler, now that Vorador's anger had somewhat subsided.  
«I want to talk to her.» Catching his Sire's look, he added: «I will not hurt her.»  
Janos sighed. «I know. But you must understand that I cannot trust you entirely with her, as much as I wish I could. I'll remain here, where I can keep an eye on both of you.»  
Vorador laughed, the deep baritone sound bouncing on the walls. « _Both_ of us, father? And what could _she_ be capable of, when against a vampire?»  
«I do not know. And that's what unsettles me the most.»  
 _Nerissa?  
-I'm here. Is everything alright?  
Vorador wishes to talk to you. Would you please come in my study? If you're willing to meet him, that is._  
He felt her smile in his head.  
 _-Of course I'll meet him. Just give me a couple of minutes._  
Vorador, who had watched his father closely and seen his eyes go slightly glassy, had shifted in front of him, stepping closer. Extending a thin fragment of thought, he brushed over his father's mind's surface.  
 _He's... Whispering? But the girl is_ human...  
«Father?»  
«She'll be here shortly» Janos said, walking over to his balcony. Vorador just stared at his back and wings, unable to process what had just happened.  
«Did you just... _Whisper_ to her?» he asked, stupefied. «I thought she was _human_ ».  
«She is. At least, the largest part of her is. Beneath her scent, though, you'll find the darker streak of our race.» He breathed in deeply, lacing his hands behind his back. «That was why I told you I do not know what she is capable of. She is able to Whisper just like a vampire, and her skin is colder than the normal humans. She is... unique.»  
 _In more ways than one_ , he thought, but he didn't say that aloud.  
«A sorceress?» Vorador suggested. «Dormant magic suddenly awakening?»  
«It could be a possibility. I am not excluding anything at this point.»  
«You like her, do you not?» the younger vampire asked suddenly, and Janos' head turned towards him.  
Was there even point in denying it? He'd been mere breaths away from _kissing_ her.  
 _And how I wish I had_ , he thought to himself.  
«She must be very attractive» Vorador mused. «It is not every woman that catches your eye.»  
 _She's_ beautiful _. The most beautiful creature I ever laid eyes upon.  
_ «Nerissa is a most fair creature» he said lowly. «And so very young...»  
«Age is but a number to a vampire, Sire».  
«She's barely reached adulthood» Janos snapped. «I will _not_ -»  
«Judging by what I've heard, she's old enough to make her own choices. I suggest you try to... give it a shot, so to speak» Vorador said lightly. «I cannot say I am happy about it... not when she is a _human_. But I do not want to spoil your chance at being happy, father. Your God knows you deserve it.»  
Janos closed his eyes. He wanted to believe him. Badly. But he had too many doubts still, he had to be sure before-  
A soft knock came from the wooden doors, interrupting his train of thoughts. He sent a gentle thread of thought to brush over Nerissa's mind and they opened silently, revealing her slightly wary and astonishing figure.  
To her credit, she didn't flinch or draw back as she saw Vorador. She did look paler than usual, though, her jaw clenched and her hands gripping the door tightly.  
She gave a polite nod of her head to Vorador, but didn't curtsey. As she walked inside, they both noticed the predatory fluidity of her movements.  
«Lord Vorador» she said politely, in a quiet yet strong voice. Janos felt a jab of pride at her behavior and hid his smile beneath impassibility.  
«My lady» Vorador replied, bowing slightly, not taking his yellow eyes off her. «Although I must admit you surely have good taste, father, I have seen better.»  
« _Vorador_ -» Janos began indignantly, but was cut off by Nerissa's laugh ringing in the air. If the green-skinned vampire was surprised to hear that cheerful sound, he hid it well.  
«So very sorry to disappoint you, my lord, but you're stuck with me, at least for a while» she said with a smile, looking up at him. «Why do you all have to be so damn _tall_?»  
«You actually found one with a little _sense of humour_?» Vorador mocked, turning towards his father. «What has come over you, Sire?»  
Rolling his eyes, Janos took a step forward as Vorador took her in. He could tell that his fledgling was impressed that she hadn't looked nor acted afraid at his presence, but had outright laughed at his words instead, coming as far as to try and make some sort of reply.  
«Janos said you wished to talk with me» Nerissa said, smiling.  
«Are you not afraid, child?» Vorador asked, sitting down on a stool by the empty fireplace. «You are a lamb in the clutches of wolves, here».  
«Wolves that are pleasant to talk to, at least. No, lord Vorador, I am not afraid of you» she replied with a shrug. «I know it is not the most self-preservating thing to feel, this non-fear, but I do not regret it.»  
Vorador smirked. «No, indeed it is not. I must say, though, that I am most curious as to how you came to meet my Sire.»  
Nerissa smiled softly as she and Janos sat by the table. «You will find it hard to believe, but it started with a harp. The most prized possession I ever had, and that is now destroyed.»  
Janos turned her head sharply towards her. She smiled sadly at him.  
«I knew it was in smithereens or ashes when you never mentioned it again. I knew you loved my music, and yet you never spoke the word since I woke up.»  
«I should have told you from the start» he said, his voice heavy with sadness.  
«You were trying to protect me from the pain. I cannot even begin to thank you enough for your kind intentions.»  
«You came to play the harp beneath my father's Aerie?» Vorador asked curiously and, admittedly, also a little bewildered.  
She smiled, her white teeth coming into view behind those pale lilac lips. «I did.»  
And so Nerissa told their story.

. . .

Authoress' note:  
I am a horrible person. So very sorry to have kept you waiting :(  
Thank you to all who reviewed! Your reviews were the kick I needed to continue this chapter 3  
If anyone's interested in hearing how Nerissa's voice sounds like, I'm adding a link to Lana Del Rey's _Once Upon A Dream_ :) I love Lana and the way she sings, so giving Nerissa her voice felt kind of right :)

watch?v=Qi0dSsZR6E0

I do not own in any shape or form the characters featured in this story -this also applies to the story's image cover and to the quotes at the beginning of each chapter. I only own my OCs and the story's plot.  
Comments please!  
Have a good day/night and love Legacy of Kain!


	12. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

 _Who hears music  
Feels his solitude peopled at once._

. . .

«I never thought I'd say this to a mortal, but I'm impressed, young one» Vorador said in his deep baritone voice. «It is not everyday that I meet a human with at least a little brain in their heads.»  
The young woman in front of him smiled, a faint little smile that gave away she was lost in thought. She was beautiful, that much Vorador would admit, but she was not the striking creature he'd expected when he'd first heard his Sire had taken her to his Aerie. He preferred more generous curves, fairer hair, and though he liked a little fight in a woman, she was way too wary for his tastes. It could be because she was unarmed and surrounded by vampires, but he had the feeling she would have looked like that even if seated at a banquet at her dead father's court. As for the man himself, she hadn't talked much about him and the few things she had said had been laced with bitterness. Vorador was beginning to think that the word _'kidnapping'_ didn't describe what his Sire had done at all.  
«This is your doing then, I suppose» the green-skinned vampire continued, producing a carefully folded letter from the pocket on his breast and handing it to her. «Along with the freeing of my children.»  
Nerissa nodded slowly, taking it from his large hand as her eyes flashed with sorrow. Though it was true she wasn't the fairest he'd seen, he had to admit her scent was intoxicating, and he once more marvelled at his father's self control.  
«Do you know whether they are planning new executions in Uschtenheim?» she asked after a small pause, and he suddenly felt her grief crawling on his own skin.  
«I am sorry, child. They have taken many of your own» he said in lieu of an answer, and Nerissa closed her eyes, her body giving a shudder before stilling once more. As Janos placed a hand supportively on her shoulder and squeezed gently, Vorador observed carefully as she raised her head, looked at him -the naturalness of her gesture, her even breathing, the lack of the acrid smell of fear in her scent of summer wind.  
«As surprising as it is, I find myself owing you, child» he said seriously. «I would have lost two young children if it weren't for you and your men.»  
Nerissa's expression darkened. «You owe me nothing. The Sarafan are nothing but murderers and torturers, and those fledges were their playthings and victims. Our council was born to fight just _this_. Even if found guilty of untold atrocities, they wouldn't have deserved such a treatment.»  
«There are few humans who would agree with you.»  
She nodded with a bitter smile, a smile that reflected more hurt than what she probably would have liked. «I know. But you must understand, my lord, that most of the people you're talking about are illiterate, have never seen a vampire outside of the depictions in their churches and mindlessly believe everything Moebius and the Sarafan tell them. Forgive my race, for their hatred is born of ignorance.»  
Vorador made an horrified expression. «You sound like my father. Please spare me, one pacifist vampire is more than enough».  
Nerissa laughed lowly as Janos facepalmed.  
«Instead of riling us with this nonsense, tell me, have they appointed the city's new governor?» the ancient vampire asked, and Vorador's expression became one of pure distaste.  
«They did» he spat. «One Skeilihr by name, and if you'll allow me, a slimy little as-»  
«Language, my son» came the light reprimand, and the other vampire sighed in resigned irritation, rolling his eyes.  
«He's the one who spread the rumors of Reinheit's death, and of her abducting. I've always marvelled at the... tolerance... the humans in Uschtenheim showed towards you, father, but it seems that that ship has sailed with her apparent kidnapping.»  
«What the- those bloody- _no_! _They're all fools!_ » Nerissa snapped, throwing her arms skywards as she got up in one brusque motion. Vorador saw the muscles in her arms swell delicately beneath the white tunic she wore and raised an eyebrow at her. «They know _nothing_ of what has happened!»  
«Just like you said, they are a mass of ignorant peasants» Vorador said calmly. «They'll never see a vampire as the saviour of the princess, young one.»  
Nerissa looked at him in silence for a long moment. Then she sighed, resting a hand on her forehead.  
«You're right. I... I should have known. It's just so _stupid_.»  
She turned towards Janos with a pained expression. «I'm sorry. I really am. I never meant to set them off against you».  
Janos shook his head, getting up in turn, as if afraid that she'd leave and somehow hoping he would be able to stop her before she did. «Child, it was only a matter of time. I would have never left you to die in that man's clutches just to buy myself a couple years more.»  
Vorador heard the fondness in his Sire's voice and saw it showing on his face, as well as the affection her regret expressed. Having experienced it himself many times, he recognized the signs of the attraction between them. He still found it amusing, though, that as ancient as his Sire was, he still acted like a fledgling in love for the first time around her.  
«Maybe you are right, but that doesn't console me. I have brought only disgraces to you» she whispered, taking a step back, and for the first time since he'd arrived, Vorador saw fear flickering in her eyes. But not fear of them.  
 _You aren't yet acquainted with the monsters that live in your head, child._  
«No, my Nerissa» Janos murmured, taking a step forward. «Please, believe me when I say you haven't brought anything of the sort.»  
She looked at him in the eyes, and Vorador saw her understanding something without words being said, nor mentally, nor phisically. He suddenly was struck with an absurd thought, about how they seemed two instruments made to play together -how each seemed to know the notes the other wanted to play.  
«I...»  
But she didn't finish the sentence. Instead, he felt her send a flow of mixed emotions  
 _(regretsorrowgratitude)_  
to his Sire through their extraordinary mental link, and he wondered if she would be able to communicate so with him, too.  
«Do you think you'd be able to Whisper with me, too, child?» he asked with a smirk.  
She gave him a wary look while Janos sent him a warning one. He would not tolerate any aggressive move towards the woman, that much Vorador had understood -not that he wanted to attack her. Not when she provided such... exotic company.  
«I... I don't know» she answered cautiously. «And frankly, I do not know if I _want_ to, either. No offense, but you're kind of damn scary.»  
Vorador laughed. «I thought you weren't afraid of me» he commented with a grin that showed off his fangs -and _damn_ , they were long.  
«That doesn't stop me from knowing who you are, and be wary because of that» she quipped back. «I may not show it often, but I have quite a great dose of will to live, thank you.»  
«I would not hurt you, childe, of that you can be sure» Vorador said as she took a seat once more. «I can clearly see that my Sire would get quite... _irritated_ at me if I did.»  
Janos let a smile work its way to his face as Nerissa chuckled, before her eyes lit up with sudden mischief.  
«It is not that I'm afraid of being hurt» she clarified. «It's just that I don't particularly want you to know what I think about your _ears_.»  
«Oh? And what would that be?» he asked, raising an eyebrow.  
Nerissa pretended to be considering for a moment, then shook her head.  
«No. Not going to tell you. You'd strangle me» she decided. «But seriously, I'm not very comfortable with the idea. I'm still trying to get used to it».  
Vorador nodded in understanding. He'd found it difficult at first to adjust to the thing, too, but he'd also often found himself comparing the growing ability to Whisper to the ability to walk of a young child: one step at a time, one learnt how to run.  
«You will learn» Janos said. «You'll find out it can be extremely useful.»  
«I have no doubt about that, but it's difficult to separate my private thoughts from the ones I actually want to communicate» she mused. «I guess it just needs time».  
«That it does. You could practice with my Sire in the meantime, I'm sure he wouldn't mind... I could give you a couple _hints_ as for what to tell him to make him topple to the ground while flying» Vorador snickered, and Nerissa gave him a fake scandalized expression.  
«And your brides find you gallant?» she asked skeptically, and Vorador actually had to stop at that for a moment: how many years had passed since he'd heard someone's tone get playful when talking to him? His brides and children were always so _reverent_ ; his father hadn't talked to him at all in years - _even if that was mainly my fault_ , he thought. _I'm sure that he will now be even more convinced of his opinions, now that he's find a human who actually sings out of the chorus.  
_ And again, those metaphors and comparisons with music. The story of how they'd met still surprised him and he found himself growing curious as to what melody had enchanted Janos so.  
«You mentioned you can use the bow. Do you know how to fight with any other weapons?» he asked, changing subject.  
She shrugged. «Just my fists.»  
He gave her a half smirk. «While I do not underestimate their worth in hand combat, I'm afraid they are not enough. You'll need to learn to use other weapons.»  
She raised an eyebrow at him, smirking. «Yes? And who'd teach me? You?»  
Vorador grinned. «I'm sure you'd be a nice match, young one. If you aren't afraid of fighting me.»  
Janos, who had raised an eyebrow at the beginning of their conversation, spread his wings a little, looking at Nerissa with fondness... and a tiny bit of relief. At what, Vorador didn't know, even if he had a very strong suspicion.  
«That would be a good thing to do, my dear. One can never know when you'll need your fighting skills next.»  
Vorador raised an eyebrow. «Really, Sire? I thought you'd be against it.»  
He had an idea as to why Janos would want her to know how to fight, but he refrained from saying it out loud. It would just make the three of them feel uncomfortable, and he did not wish that. Not now, at least.  
Janos sighed. «As I said, one never knows. They may be useful in the future.»  
Nerissa smiled faintly, the kind of smile that hid whether one was aware or not of the meaning behind one's words. Vorador understood then why his father had taken a liking to her -she was observant, perspicacious, and had that peculiar quality that was the expressiveness of her smile and eyes. He saw clearly the fascination one such as Janos could have for her.  
«I would be honored to be your student, lord Vorador» Nerissa said, a smile flashing briefly on her lips, her pearly white teeth showing behind them. «Seems that my curiosity about swords and such will be at last satisfied».  
«I can see why all those men refused to marry you» was Vorador's comment, and they all laughed.  
They kept talking a while more, but eventually Vorador had to leave -his mansion and children called for him, not to mention his brides, who had promised him a good time when he came back.  
He bid both his Sire and Nerissa goodbye as he walked to the study' balcony, his regal clothes fluttering in the wind.  
«I'm sure I'm leaving you in good hands» he said offhandedly, seemingly to no one in particular, his green magic beginning to envelop him.  
«Did you doubt me?» Janos asked, tone mildly amused.  
Vorador smiled then, a soft smile that was as rare for him as it was sincere: a smile with no fangs, no hidden malice or intent.  
«I wasn't talking about her, Janos.»  
And having said that, he vanished into thin air.

. . .

«He doesn't seem so bad» Nerissa commented as the last traces of Vorador's magic vanished in the wind.  
«He's not. He can be quite the good company when he's in a good mood. Nerissa...»  
She turned at him, eyebrow arched in silent questioning.  
«I... heard how you talked to him. Heard the playfulness, and saw the way you behaved around him. I must thank you, my dear. I think the company of a human that can actually talk to him without making foul comments on his appearance, or draw swords at his sight, could do him a world of good.»  
Nerissa bit her lip, uncertain. «I suppose we could try» she mumbled. «I for one wouldn't be displeased to spend a little time with him.»  
Janos felt a pang of jealousy at that, but didn't allow it to show on his face. It was a powerful feeling, one he'd read about a million times, and yet had never truly _felt_ himself. There had been only two other women before Nerissa, and though he had cared for them deeply, neither had ever made him feel really jealous. Maybe it was because he'd been younger then, maybe for some other reason, but he was positive he'd never felt _jealous_ before Nerissa.  
«Janos?»  
Her voice brought him back to reality and he raised his gaze.  
«Forgive me, I spaced out. Yes?»  
«Dispel a doubt of mine?»  
Janos smiled, silently urging her to continue. She bit her lip, fiddling with her hair.  
«You... do not seem one who relishes in blood and fights.»  
«Indeed, I do not, dear. But that doesn't mean I do not fight when it is needed.»  
«No, I didn't mean that... I was just wondering...»  
She sighed, running a hand in her hair, eyes flickering with sadness, and Janos tilted his head, taking a step back to better look at her.  
«Nerissa?»  
«I would never fight you» she whispered. «I would never... _never_. I cannot.»  
Janos stilled at that. He looked her over -the way her emerald gaze spoke more than a thousand words, her hair fallen on one side of her face. He recalled that smile, the smile that had hidden her thoughts from everyone.  
«I didn't approve of Vorador's idea just because of that» he said lowly.  
«Janos... if I am even still alive, it is because of you. I was unconscious, maybe barely alive, and _bleeding_ -no one would have said a thing if you'd bitten me then. You would probably just have done me a favour in killing me.» She took a deep breath. «But you didn't. You _saved_ me. I... I think that if I didn't need to defend myself from you then, I won't have to, ever. And if I have... my blood would be just barely enough to thank you for what you did for me.»  
Janos shook his head, walking to her to take her delicate hands in his. That contact, as small as it was, felt deeper than it had before, for some reason nor human nor vampire could name.  
«Do not say things like that again» he whispered. «I don't want to see you bleeding. Never. Never».  
Nerissa flinched at those words, and though Janos looked at her in silent questioning, she gently pried her hands away.  
 _What's wrong, child?,_ he asked, smelling the acrid stench of fear rising in her natural scent.  
 _-Nothing... nothing. I... forgive me, but I'm tired._  
Her words were calm, but echoed with uneasiness. Janos slowly took a step back to give her more room. _  
Do you wish for me to accompany you back in your rooms?  
-You're very kind, Janos, but no. I can find them myself, thank you._  
Nerissa retreated hastily, keeping control until she was out of his sight... and then Janos' ears informed him she'd begun running.

. . .

The doors of her chambers closed behind her and Nerissa pressed her hands against her forehead.  
 _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_ , she thought, squeezing her eyes shut. _I'm so damn stupid!  
_ The truth was that she couldn't even really explain why she' fled like that, in such a sudden and rushed manner. His words had been, as usual, very kind, soft and gentle, and she had responded wih utter rudeness.  
 _I must apologize. He doesn't deserve such a treatment._  
But the thought of going back was scary. No, not scary. It was absolutely _terrifying,_ and she didn't even know why.  
 _I don't want to see you bleeding. Never._  
She closed her eyes, his words  
 _(protect you forever)  
(as long as I breathe)  
(you'll never bleed when I'm near)_  
awakening painful memories.  
Nerissa turned towards the closed doors. Through their peculiar mental link, she could feel his confusion... and his hurt.  
That last emotion was the one that pushed the doors open once more, that made her walk down the corridor to his study again. A burning need to ease his suffering.  
When she tentatively pushed the doors open, her teeth had found her lower lip again. Janos raised his gaze from the book he'd taken, surprise brightening his eyes.  
«I'm sorry» she said in a rush. «I didn't mean to snap at you. I shouldn't have run off like that. I'm sorry.» Feeling she owed him an explanation, Nerissa took a deep breath before continuing. Her voice grew stronger and steadier as she went on. «Those words reminded me of a time when I was a little girl. I had climbed a tree in the garden, trying to pluck one of the apples I'd seen there, but I lost my balance and fell. I scraped my knees and when Abraham arrived, he took me in his arms and kissed those wounds, telling me not to cry... that he would always protect me, and that I would never bleed again as long as he breathed. And I trusted him.»  
 _And that trust was broken mere months after that episode._  
«That is why I got upset when you told me you didn't want to see me bleed. I... I'm scared. I'm scared that I will trust you, just like I trusted him, and will end up broken again.» She shut her eyes tightly. «But the truth is that you could hurt me a thousand times more than Abraham,  
 _(because you could break my heart in two, but she didn't speak those words aloud)_  
and I'm only human, Janos, and I'm scared of pain. Please forgive me, I didn't mean to be so rude.»  
Her eyes snapped open when she felt his wings draw her close and his warm arms come around her. Warmth flooded her chest and she tentatively placed her hands on his chest, feeling his muscles through the tunic he was wearing, lean and marmoreal beneath her palms.  
«Hush, childe. I'm glad you trusted me enough with these words. But now please, remain here for a while longer. Keep me company» came his whisper, gentle and loving and caring, and Nerissa found herself clinging on his tunic.  
 _The worst time of the day is when I find myself alone. It is then that horrible thoughts come to torment me. So, if you believe I came here to keep you company, you're wrong. I came_ searching _for company._  
She lifted her head, looking at him from beneath long dark lashes. «Unless you wish for me to leave» she murmured, knowing that he couldn't have possibly heard her thoughts, but speaking as if he had.  
«No, little one. You are welcome here anytime you want» he said, as if he'd actually heard  
 _(no please no that would be too much what kind of person am I)_  
,gently letting her go. Nerissa looked at him for a long moment, then, curiously, moved her gaze to the hundreds of tomes neatly put away on the shelves.  
«Is this how you spend lonely hours?» she asked, gently raising a hand towards an ancient, leather-covered black book. Her fingers stopped just short of touching it, though, as if it could burn her if she actually did.  
«It is easy to lose oneself in these ancient runes» the vampire answered with a small smile. «They provide good company when I'm alone. Do you have any interest in literature?»  
She went very still at those words. Janos raised an elegant eyebrow and spread his wings a little as she drew her arms up and crossed them over her chest.  
«It is not a matter of interest» she whispered. «It is a flaw, Janos, an impending flaw that has kept me from getting a closer look.»  
«Why do you speak of yourself so?»  
 _What flaw could there be within you, my songbird?_  
She laughed bitterly. «I am a woman, Janos, worth less than a horse's mane and good at nothing but sew and embroider» she said, her hands gripping her own arms tightly. «I can't read.»  
Oh.  
Janos was not familiar with favoritism towards a gender in spite of the other. His people used to teach how to read and write to both males and females, just as they taught the art of combat to both. He knew, though, that humans considered it normal. He'd actually just assumed she knew how to; after all, she was no ignorant peasant.  
«They never taught me» she continued, very lowly, as if in response to his thoughts. «But I've always wanted to...»  
She felt his warm presence behind her, the rustle of his clothes, the soft whisper of his feathers as his feathers as he drew close. His voice came from above her, a low, sweet murmur that made her want to melt in his strong arms, the same arms she felt so close to her.  
«Would you like to learn?»  
Nerissa looked up at him, eyes shining like a sky full of stars and lips slightly parted in surprise. Her black curls framed her pale face, her brows quirked upwards in shock, and he suddenly felt the urge to kiss them.  
«You... would teach me?» she whispered.  
It was but a small thing, really, to teach her how to read, but Janos actually felt delighted he could. It had been so long since he'd tended to another so, with such personal concern.  
«If you'd have me» he answered sweetly, gently brushing a lock from her face.  
Her white hand rose and took his light-blue one, again brushing against his fingers, his claws, the dip of his wrist.  
«I don't think you know just how much it means to me» she whispered. «Janos...»  
 _You are so close, my beautiful dark angel..._  
She didn't know if it was love. She no longer remembered how love was supposed to feel like. But she knew she wanted him in her arms, wanted him to be happy, for him to be hers and for herself to be his at the same time. And she couldn't believe that those feelings were simply thirst for companionship, just to ease the terrible solitude she'd lived in all her life. But to go on meant to put her life into his hands, just as soon as she'd escaped her father's. She would have given up her freedom, that same freedom she'd struggled so hard to gain.  
«You know that if you were my mate, I wouldn't ask you to change a thing of yourself» he murmured.  
«Being your mate would change my life».  
«I suppose so» he sighed, but his voice didn't carry the heavy burden of defeat.  
 _Hope_...  
Nerissa glanced outside. It was late afternoon, the sky heavy with clouds. Soon it would have started to rain.  
«How would you feel if I left you? If one day I gave myself to you, and the next I went away, without promising to return?»  
«Nerissa, I'd be insane to think to cage you.»  
«You didn't tell me how you'd feel if you were to forever be at my fussing's mercy.»  
«It's not fussing, it's what your heart wants. You forget no one can understand you as I do, Nerissa, not with our mental connection. If you ever went away forever, I'd know it wasn't for lack of love, but if that were the case I'd know that too, and then I'd think it right for you to leave.»  
«You keep on not answering me.»  
There was a moment of silence. «I don't really know, child. I think I'd feel many things, not just sadness. But I'm not afraid of risking to be unhappy.»  
Janos was willing to risk to be unhappy: the problem lay just there. Nerissa had no idea of what could have happened, and to go on meant to risk to be unhappy.  
Outside, a dark cloud covered the sun as the first drops of rain fell, plunging the room in the shadows. Nerissa shivered, because each time she found herself in the dark, deep inside she chose to risk.

. . .

Authoress' note:  
THAAAAAANK YOU for all the reviews! I love you guys! :3 :3 please tell me if Vorador was OOC, I tried to keep him the dirty bastard we all love XD  
I do not own in any shape or form the characters featured in this story -this also applies to the story's image cover and to the quotes at the beginning of each chapter. I only own my OCs and the story's plot.  
Comments please!  
Have a good day/night and love Legacy of Kain!


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

 _Every song  
Is like a painting_

. . .

 _The sun caught in her raven hair as she ran, laughing, down the hill. The air was warm, the sky as blue as a forget-me-not, white clouds soaring high above her head.  
Nerissa came to a halt as she arrived at the bottom of the green hill. There was no one in sight, the sea of grass swaying gently with the wind. With a smile, she walked forward and into the tall grass, so tall it reached her shoulders. The plants brushed against her skin and she looked down, raising her arms, finding them bare. She frowned -she never went out with her arms bare, so that no one could see her scars. But there were no scars on her arms, and when she tentatively tried to stretch, there wasn't the uncomfortable tugging of her other marks on her sides and back.  
The piece of information filled her with dread. It wasn't right. There was something that wasn't right.  
The grass was not just brushing her anymore. Now it was pulling, tugging at her clothes, as if it was trying to engulf her.  
With panic rising in her throat, she struggled against its grasp and suddenly broke free. The force of her movements sent her falling forward, but instead of meeting the warm earth beneath, she was engulfed by the cold wetness of water.  
_The river! Oh God it's the river! Please! Please! PLEASE! OH PLEASE I BEG OF YOU NO PLEASE! _  
She kicked her legs and her head met the air above the water. She was close to the river bench, she could reach it with naught but a couple of strokes.  
With hope burning in her once more, she raised her arm-  
and cold, viscid, dead things clamped hard on her ankle, pulling her underwater.  
With muddy liquid filling her eyes, every heart beat sending shockwaves of fear, Nerissa looked down at her leg and saw that the things were fingers, child fingers with painted blue nails.  
The grinning face of Hernais emerged from the darkness. Her face was white and her eyes of living silver, blood seeping from the gory wound on her chest. Red liquid curls rose from her injury and into the water around them, painting it red.  
_My nails _, she hissed._ I had got tired of the blue. I wanted to paint them red. But then you came and now I'm dead and I can't.  
 _The absurd words_ 'I'll do it for you' _trembled on her lips, but Nerissa couldn't speak. Her lungs were burning with need of air, her vision was darkening at the edges. She kicked hard, but Hernais just kept grinning.  
_ You're the reason why I can't _, she snarled._ You came and took my brother and now I'm dead and it's your fault it's your fault it's YOUR FAULT... _  
Nerissa tried to scream, but she couldn't even breathe anymore._

Her eyes snapped open and she realized she had really opened her mouth to scream, but her vocal chords weren't emitting anything but a wheezy lament. She was soaked in cold sweat and the covers were tangled about her form, trapping her legs in their soft grasp.  
Nerissa swallowed, her throat dry, and ran a hand on her moist forehead. She shivered at the thought of the nightmares beginning again. They'd first started after Abraham had begun torturing her, then they'd stopped as she slowly had got used to it. It had been years  
 _(come here you little whore)_  
since she'd last dreamt of the river.  
Nerissa glanced out of the window. It was still night, the stars like tiny diamonds shining on dark jeweler's felt. The Aerie was silent, the torches all blown out, the darkness like a suffocating blanket around her.  
Only that the Aerie wasn't silent, was it? No, of course not. She shivered, wrapping the nightgown more tightly around her form. Despite what she'd been through, her mind rarely birthed horrors, but God forbid when it did. God forbid it when her imagination began warming up. Now it wasn't just warm, it was scalding hot, and the tiny creaks she was hearing weren't the wind blowing outside, but Hernais, Hernais coming forward on dead feet, her painted blue nails blackened by necrosis, her face a mask of pure hatred.  
 _You killed me. If it hadn't been for you, I would still be at home, playing hide and seek with my brother. You killed me. You, you fucking bitch, have murdered me._  
Nerissa covered her mouth with one hand, sternly commanding her not to think such nonsense, but in the dark, rationality fled and the impossible became perfectly logic. Her mind sent her an image of the dead girl crawling forward, lips curled on her teeth in a feral growl, leaving a trail of dark dead blood behind.  
A sudden, powerful beat outside her window made her jump, a gasp catching in her throat, and at the same time relief washed over her. Even in her current state of stupid fear, she would recognise that sound anywhere. Pulling the nightgown further up on her chest, Nerissa left the bed on cat's feet and walked in silence to the window, carefully remaining in the shadows.  
A soft smile stretched her unnatural lilac lips and she leaned a little on the wall siding the window.  
To see Janos on the ground gave a strange feeling of wrongness. There was a slow care taken about the steps he made, suggesting, wrongly, a certain clumsiness. He had to walk a little hunched, so as not to step on the tips of his massive black primaries. His back muscles, disproportionately powerful in order to accommodate his wings, bunched up like knotted rope beneath his skin, ruining the line of his robes.  
But tonight Janos was flying, and like all the creatures given back to their most intimate element, he couldn't have been more graceful. _He is beautiful_ , Nerissa suddenly thought, and immediately realized that the word didn't do him justice: he was actually _magnificent_ , and she felt a powerful, burning feeling fill her heart. It was a mixture of awe, affection and fierce _want_ , a deep longing and a happiness to see him that she'd never known before. She thought about Whispering to him, but then decided against it. She didn't want to disturb him and, most of all, she cared about his wellbeing. He surely wouldn't expect her to be awake at this hour, and if she Whispered and he got caught off-guard while flying... she didn't even want to think about it.  
She watched as he beat his wings again and rose into the air, his white robes fluttering around him. He followed an ascending current that brought him even further up, deep into the night, his eyes like the brightest of stars, and then he was nowhere to be seen, vanished into the dark.  
Nerissa's smile vanished with him as she thought about the words he'd told her just a couple days before. The way he'd spoken them, and his eyes, his clear golden eyes...  
Sure that she would never be able to fall asleep again, she sat there until the first rays of the sun colored the sky with orange and pink. She got dressed slowly and walked into the library before he came back, trying to figure out the words basing on the first lessons Janos had given her.

. . .

«You're doing surprisingly well for a novice» Janos said, and he was telling the truth. Nerissa could already read whole paragraphs with little help, and from books that weren't all that simple either. He'd chosen one of the easiest to read, with short, clear sentences, but the subjects it was about were still fairly complicated.  
«I feel so stupid» she murmured. She'd been a lot quieter than usual the whole morning and had tied her hair up in a loose ponytail. Janos had noticed she used to do that when she was upset about something, otherwise she let her hair down. He controlled the urge to run his hand through the long, thick dark curls, knowing she wouldn't have appreciated it in that moment.  
«You're not stupid, you're just inexperienced. Everything will come in time» he assured, and she nodded quietly.  
They had been at it for a good two hours and a half, and he felt the need to take a break and stretch his wings. He thought about what he'd planned that night, while he was flying over Uschtenheim, and smiled a little.  
He'd gone there with the mere purpose of hunting and finding actual food that Nerissa could eat. The Sarafan had not seen him, clearly and foolishly underestimating his vampiric abilities, and he'd been able to sneak in town undisturbed. Just as he was preparing to take off again after having taken several kinds of food, his own hunger sated, something had flickered.  
A small idea.  
 _Turn on the lights..._  
He'd flown back to his Aerie with a smile on his face.  
«We should stop for a while» he said. «You look tired.»  
«I didn't sleep very well tonight» she admitted, gingerly closing the book and placing it on the table. She didn't add anything and Janos understood that she had probably had another nightmare. He couldn't do much for those, unfortunately, and had never heard her scream or move around during the night, so he hadn't been there to wake her up while she was having them.  
He caught her smiling softly at him, guessing his thoughts. «You worry too much» she said, and he smiled. It had become something she often told him, during the past days.  
«There's a place that I'd like to show you» he said, quickly, before he could talk himself out of it. Wasn't that funny, a vampire with almost two thousand years on his shoulders, acting as nervous as a young fledgling on his first date.  
A date. Dear God, the word sounded strange even in his own mind.  
Nerissa got up from the _chaise longue_ she'd been lying on, in a position that Janos would have thought suggestive hadn't it been laced with some kind of bright naturalness. She stretched, sighing deeply, and turned to look at him, grinning.  
«What kind of place is it?» she asked curiously.  
He chuckled. «It's a surprise» he said. «Would you like to see it?»  
«Of course! When are we leaving?»  
«We could go now, if that's what you wish for.»  
Nerissa beamed, nodding eagerly.  
And now came the tough part.  
«It's just that it's kind of difficult to reach it by foot» he said offhandedly, a crooked half-smile appearing on his face.  
«And you plan to take me there flying, right?» she said playfully. «I know you're a vampire and so you're stronger and faster and blah blah blah, but won't I be too heavy? I don't want you to get hurt just because I wanted to go on a trip.»  
He chuckled at her antics and shook his head. «I've flown with you here while you were practically a dead weight. You're as heavy as a little bird. And it's not too far from here, it won't be long.»  
She looked at him with an unsure expression, but he just smiled reassuringly and outstretched his wings. Her eyes followed the movement and stared at his black pinions, fascinated.  
Slowly, Nerissa stepped forward and into his arms. In their strong hold she felt safe, warm, able to take down whole empires. Feeling like his blood was electricity in his veins, Janos wrapped his arms around her. She wound her arms around his neck, her cheeks blushing bright red.  
«Just hold on tight» he murmured, and leapt.  
The wind howled in their ears as they fell down from the balcony. Janos grinned as Nerissa gave in a surprised, joyful gasp, laughing with her face hidden in the hollow of his neck. The vibrations made Janos' heart stop in his chest, breath catching.  
 _-This... this is AMAZING!_ , she screamed, her voice carrying a deep carefree joy that Janos found himself sharing.  
 _Not as much as you, my beautiful harpist_ , he thought to himself. _Having fun?_ , he asked instead over the scream of the wind.  
 _-I can see everything from here_ , she said, her arms gripping his neck tightly. _It's so beautiful, Janos... I never thought it would be like this.  
_ He laughed, wings beating powerfully in the air to keep them up. Nerissa readjusted her hold on his neck, looking down upon the infinite expanse of land bathed in sunlight that was Nosgoth.  
 _It's incredible, yes.  
-Where are we going?  
Deeper into the mountains. There is a place I sometimes go to. It's very peaceful, I bet you'll like it.  
_Nerissa smiled and loosened her grip slightly. Janos was grateful of it, since her arms had been gripping his neck with a strangling hold.  
The flight was a little longer than expected, as they both wanted to enjoy every single moment of it and so Janos flew slower than usual. Eventually he heard the roar of the waterfall and beat his wings harder to rise to the cliff top he was looking for.  
He felt her concern brush on the surface of his mind. _Be careful_ , said those unskpoken thoughts, and he smiled, unseen.  
The trees that grew there were luxuriand and verdant, the branches and leaves rustling in the wind. The water roared loudly as it fell down the cliff, wetting the rocks and giving life to the plants around. A dark cave, nothing more than a black hole among the trees and the large boulders that coasted the river, loomed over the place like a reminder of dark times.  
Janos was careful to land far from the water, not wanting to end up a heap of scorched bones. A sense of loss surged through him as he let Nerissa go, the woman looking around with wonder in her eyes.  
«It's beautiful» she said, voice full with joy. It felt good to be outside again, without all the little pains and aches that had been tormenting her since her arrival at the Aerie. She breathed in the fresh air, grinning.  
Janos nodded in agreement.  
«It is, but it's not the place I wanted to show you. Please, come with me.»  
Nerissa walked to him curiously, following him in the dark mouth of the cave. She frowned slightly, after all why would he, a winged being, wish to bury himself in a cave?, but then decided to just trust him and see where he was taking her.  
They walked side to side for what seemed both a very long time and just a few minutes, getting deeper and deeper in the bowels of the earth. After some time it became impossible to her to distinguish anything and Janos gently took her hand, guiding her through the twists of the stone labyrinth.  
«We're there» he murmured after another few minutes. «Just let me turn on the light.»  
«Turn on the-»  
But she never completed her sentence, because Janos sent a blast of light towards one of the walls, and suddenly the whole cave lighted up.  
The walls were entirely encrusted with tiny little natural crystals that reflected the light and made it bounce back and forth throughout the cave. The whole place sparkled with a thousand colors, illuminating everything through it. A soft breeze was blowing inside from the many holes and cracks in the stone, bringing a sweet scent of earth and leaves and stone.  
With awe etched in every inch of her face, she turned to the vampire beside her and was struck dumb. She saw what she'd always had in front of her eyes and the air in her lungs was stolen from her.  
Janos had stunning eyes and a wonderful visage, from every side she looked at it, just as much as his shoulders and hands. And his arms, and his chest, motionless as he held his breath and stared at her. And the heart that beat in that chest, it was also wonderful.  
Her magnificent angel.  
And all of a sudden she knew what he was about to tell her.  
«I know that you do not want all of this, Nerissa, but I can't help it -my life has changed from the very moment you've walked into it with your music. And it scares me to tell what I'd like to say, because... oh, you could punch me, or more probably, tell me no, or, even worse, despise me» he said brokenly, tearing his gaze away from her. «I love you, I care for you more than I do for anyone else. I've upset you, I know... so maybe it is best for me not to add anything».  
Nerissa's eyes were watering, but not because of what he was telling her: it was because of something she felt inside, something that she didn't want to think about as she sat there with him. She got up.  
«I must go».  
Janos jumped to his feet. «No, Nerissa please».  
«I won't go far, Janos. I just need to think, alone».  
«I'm afraid you won't return if I let you go now» he whispered.  
«Janos, I'll come back».  
«I know you think it now, but once you're gone, you might think that the best solution is to run away.»  
«I'll return.» Of that he could be sure.  
«I can't know it.»  
«No» said Nerissa, «you can't, but I need to be alone for a while, and I don't want to attack you again with telepathy and make you faint, so you'll have to let me go. And while I'll be away, you'll need to trust me, just like anyone without the Whisper would, and like I always do with you.»  
Janos looked at her again, with those clear and sad eyes of his, then he sighed and sat on the rocks. «Walk for at least ten minutes, if you really don't want me to perceive you» he said. «Be careful. Don't get lost.»  
Nerissa would have never thought that Janos could hear her at ten minutes' distance, but they would have spoken of that another time. She walked away while the lights in the cave dimmed, plunging the place in the dark, searching for a far away place where she would have been truly alone.

. . .

Seated on a rock in a dark part of the cave, Nerissa was silently crying. Nestled on the hard stone floor, and with a heavy sadness that made her very soul ache, asked herself how could a heart break even when two people loved each other.  
She couldn't have Janos, she was sure of it. She couldn't become his mate, and it would have been absurd that she'd just got rid of Abraham only to hand herself over to someone else, someone she'd belong to, and around whom she'd have to create herself a life. Someone who could take away her freedom with a snap of his fingers. And knowing that Janos would have never done so didn't make her feel better: it would have still become something he'd conceded her, not something only hers. It didn't matter that she loved him.  
Sitting in the dark, surrounded only by thick stone walls, Nerissa understood three things.  
She loved Janos.  
She wanted him.  
And the only person she'd ever belong to would be herself.

She found him in the same spot she'd left him, staring at the lights that danced in the room. She walked to him and sat there to his side, and when he turned, his eyes were sweet. He didn't say a word as Nerissa looked at him, letting him feel all she felt, all she wanted and couldn't do.  
Janos looked at her for a long instant, and when his next words came, they seemed hesitant.  
«To break our hearts isn't the only alternative» he said lowly.  
«What do you mean?»  
The vampire looked away, then, again, met her eyes. «I'll give myself to you, in any way you want.»  
And he said it with such simplicity that she couldn't help but stare at him.  
She hadn't thought about that possibility when she was hiding in the cave crying. It really hadn't even brushed her mind by mistake. And now he'd made her such an inviting offer, so simple and clear, but that contained also hope.  
 _Can I truly be your mate, and belong solely to myself?_  
She needed to find an answer to that question, even if she didn't knew how. «I need to think about it» she murmured.  
He nodded.  
They teleported back to the Aerie shortly after, and Nerissa hid in one of the towers, sitting on the balcony's edge, heart bleeding with sorrow.

. . .

To think of having a lover was, to Nerissa, like discovering a new limb she'd never noticed before, like a third arm or a new finger. It was a weird concept and thinking about it was like contemplating something alien that had grown on her body.  
The knowledge that that mate could be Janos placated a little the terrible confusion in her head. If she replaced the abstract concept of lover with the vampire's image, it was easier to picture them together, outside the bindings of matrimony.  
She took more than a day or two to decide. Janos didn't press her. Their days slipped away like they did before, with him teaching her, her getting to know him and exploring the palace. Those great halls with their high ceilings were capable of distracting her from her swirling thoughts, making her forget her worries.  
Her emotions didn't stop her from being fascinated by him, though.  
«Do you find them heavy?» she asked one night, looking at his wings. They'd just ended their evening lesson, and she was placing the book again on its shelf. She'd got better at reading during those days, finding out that she liked it immensely.  
Janos laughed at her question. «You may as well ask if you find your arms heavy? Or your head? My wings are a part of me as much as your arms are a part of you. Unless under hard physical effort, they don't feel heavy to me in the least.»  
«They're immense» she said, looking at them with fascination. She raised a hand. «May I?»  
Janos smiled, unfurling one. «By all means» he said softly, extending it towards her.  
She tentatively brushed his soft feathers with her fingers, careful not to pull or tug at any. They felt dry and slightly waxy under her hand, much as she'd expected, but they were still incredible. He marvelled at their color, that perfect black in which colors were born, and ran her hand down, towards his primaries.  
Janos, meanwhile, was finding himself more and more relaxed beneath her gentle touch. Her fingers ran gingerly over his black pinions, as if afraid to tug at them, and the sweetness of her gestures was intoxicating. Janos was aware that Nerissa didn't know, but to an Ancient, their wings were their treasures, and to allow another to touch them meant almost absolute trust. The careful touch of her hand meant to him more than she could imagine.  
Then her fingers found the underside of his wing, and it jerked uncontrollably in her grasp.  
Nerissa immediately let go, raising her hands. «I'm sorry! Did I hurt you? I didn't mean to-»  
«No, no, child, it's quite alright» he said, turning to face her. «It's just... ah, ticklish».  
She stared at him with wide open eyes... and then burst out laughing.  
«What's so funny?»  
«You... are _ticklish_?» she asked with glee. «Janos Audron, father of all vampires, is _ticklish_! Oh gods above, that's just...»  
Nerissa shook her head, falling back on the _chaise longue_ , and laced her hands on her stomach. She sighed happily, closing her eyes.  
«Your wings are beautiful» she said.  
 _You are beautiful_.  
Janos smiled as she opened her eyes again. He sat on a stool by the _chaise longue_ , eyes sparkling golden, so close Nerissa could see the flickers of silver threading in his irises.  
A lock of dark curls had fallen in front of her eyes. Janos reached out to brush it away, then abruptly stilled himself, suddenly aware of being close to doing something he shouldn't. He cleared his throat, looking away.  
Suddenly Nerissa noticed how close they were, felt his presence, beautiful and warm and loving beside her. Janos was there, right there, breathing by her side; she was touching him and could see the risk she was taking, and that consciousness washed over her like icy water. But she knew that the moment of choosing had come, and despite the confusion still whirling in her mind, she knew what to choose.  
She sat up as he turned again, looking at her. In his eyes she saw the spark of understanding.  
Their mouths found each other, and they both felt as if they were burning.

. . .

Nerissa kissed Janos again, savoring him, while their hands fumbled with their clothes. Finally, after way too long, they were able to feel the warmth of the skin, each exploring the body of the other. Janos' body gave a shudder as her cool hands run on his powerful back, on the place where shoulders joined wings, on his scalp, in his hair. His own hands were running on every inch of skin he could reach, but when they came to rest on her side, he lifted his head, asking for permission.  
Her soft smile and quickened breathing told him that it was just what she wanted. His lips descended on her neck then, kissing the soft alabaster skin there, keeping his sharp teeth to himself as his fingers fumbled with her dress' lacings. He shifted a little to allow her to remove his tunic and smiled when she ran her hand on his muscular chest.  
«For someone who spends all his free time reading, you sure are well-built» she whispered, pulling him down to taste his lips once more. She should have found the whole situation strange, to be laughing and teasing him, doing what they were doing, becoming what they were becoming. Instead, everything felt natural and warm, and not at all scary.  
The pain came, as expected, but it was a small thing compared with the heat that washed over her. Janos kissed her, and asked if she wanted him to stop, but she just smiled and pulled him for another kiss. They moved together and the pain gradually left room only for that scalding heat, that heat that stole away their thoughts and breath, and for that small fragment of eternity there wasn't anything but the two of them, and the fire and the warm darkness that surrounded them. _  
_Later, when they were both lying in the tangled sheets, bodies laced in a sweet embrace, Nerissa traced his jaw with her fingers, playing with his hair, while Janos held her in his arms and kissed her, looking her in the eyes.  
«Are you alright?» he murmured.  
She smiled. «I haven't lost myself, and you?»  
He hid a smile in her neck. «I'm bursting with joy» he answered, his lips and breath tickling her skin.  
Nerissa laughed and slid her arms around him, getting closer still. He felt her body press against his, her warm breasts, her long cool legs, and happily shared his body heat as she gave him her strange, beautiful coolness. Nerissa pulled the covers over the both of them, careful not to hurt his wings in the process, and as she moved the light of the sun danced on her body.  
 _You're beautiful, my love_ , he said, holding her in his arms. His hands rested on her back, where he could feel the irregular shapes of the scars beneath his palm.  
 _Does it hurt?_ , he murmured, brushing at the scars on her back with butterfly touch.  
Nerissa closed her eyes. _-Not anymore._  
An armor to protect her from the pain, but that kept her from truly feeling his loving touch.  
Pushing those useless thought aside, she shifted, her face directly above his. Her hand began exploring gently just as he closed his eyes, and she smiled gently at that trusting gesture. Her fingers brushed his eyebrows, his forehead, then his black hair, finding it silky and smelling of that unique fragrance that was purely Janos. She gently caressed his ear, barely touching the pointy tip, before she noticed a tiny hole just beneath it.  
Curiously, she looked more closely and saw that the hole was in truth the first of many. A series of tiny earring holes treaded its way down his ear, down to the lobe, and she found herself smiling.  
«Did you use to wear earrings?» she asked softly.  
He smiled, opening his eyes. «Many of us did.»  
She looked down at him. «Why are you smiling like that?» she asked, taking in the stunning sight his laughing eyes were and committing it to memory.  
Janos couldn't help himself, and chuckled. «Theoretically, they're there to make me attractive to my wife's eyes.»  
Nerissa's eyes widened. «You had a wife?!»  
«By the sea and stars! No! Seriously, do you think I wouldn't have told you?» Janos asked, sitting up. «I loved only two women before you, and even then I never wished to marry. In that, I think, we are similar.»  
Nerissa laughed, falling back to his side. Her smile became soft as she placed a small, sweet kiss on his lips.  
 _Rest, my love_ , she said, caressing the side of his face. He closed his eyes, giving a long sigh, and his whole body relaxed as that day catched up with him. His thoughts began to wander as they always did when he was about to cross the border between sleep and wakefulness. What he saw was an immense expanse of fields, completely covered in paper flowers, while a purple sky flew over him. Then the image vanished and he felt then as if he were falling, like he did when he was a child, when he would startle awake with a scream trapped in his throat. But this time he didn't fight it, because he also felt the sweet weight of Nerissa's arms across his chest, and knew that if he were falling, he knew she would be there to catch him with the sweet notes of a harp.

. . .

Authoress' note:  
I'm not entirely satisfied with how this chapter came out, but anyway, here you go :) Thank you for all your fantastic reviews! They always make me sooooooo happy, I love you all 3 :-. . .  
Anyway, if anyone's interested, I'm adding the link to the harp tune Nerissa was playing at the beginning of this fic :) it is obviously not mine and all credits goes to its owner/s :)

watch?v=Cgt4DEBQy50

I do not own in any shape or form the characters featured in this story -this also applies to the story's image cover and to the quotes at the beginning of each chapter. I only own my OCs and the story's plot.  
Comments please!  
Have a good day/night and love Legacy of Kain!


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

 _Music is the movement of sound  
To reach the soul for the education of its virtue_

. . .

Janos awoke while it was still dark outside. He opened his eyes and for the umpteenth time found himself in a bedroom that, despite all the years he'd spent there, still couldn't perceive as his. This time, though, everything was different. The return to reality didn't lead only to another day identical to the day that had just ended, a day he had to share with the same thoughts of the previous one. He turned his head to his left, carefully untagling his body and wings from the white arms of the woman lying at his side, who murmured something unintelligible in her sleep and turned, sighing deeply.  
The sheets just partly covered her back and Janos admired the drawing of muscles beneath that white opalescent skin, her shapely shoulders that melted in the spindly line of her arms. He turned on his side, gingerly getting closer, so that her scent could reach him before anything else.  
Mere hours before they had entered the bedroom accompanied solely by the sound of their kissing, unable to stop, almost fearful, as if what had been created between them would dissolve into thin air had they stopped. There hadn't been the thoughts and doubts that both of them had expected, that had always promised to be there at the first signs of what they had created.  
There had been immediately and solely the two of them and their clothes suddenly too large, fallen to the ground with the naturalness of the promises that had been kept. There were a thirst and a hunger that had been ignored for too long, and that suddenly had demanded satiation, there was a void to fill that just then, as they tried to fill it up, they were able to comprehend how large it was.  
Janos rested his head again on the pillow and closed his eyes. The images began to flow freely behind his closed lids.  
 _The light.  
The dark.  
The bed.  
Nerissa's skin, unique in the world, touching his, finally speaking a known language.  
Those oh so beautiful eyes veiled by a shadow. Her gaze suddenly uncertain as he'd held her close, and that uncertanity vanishing as he'd kissed the scars on her shoulders._  
He'd taken possession of her body with all the gentleness he was capable of, wishing to be any existing god that could allow him to go back in time and change how things had been. And he'd discovered, as he'd become one with her, that she could give him the strenght to be that god, and could find the strenght to be, for him, the same thing.  
They would erase the suffering, if not the memory.  
 _The memory..._  
After Daenerys he hadn't had any other woman. It was as if a part of him had entered some sort of suspension, as if he'd left only the vital functions working, those that allowed him to feed, to breathe, to walk around the world like an automaton made of flesh and blood. Daenerys' death had taught him that love can't be reproduced at will. No one can impose themselves not to love anymore. And above all no one could impose themselves to love again.  
Nerissa had been the gift of destiny, a silent 'oh!' of stupor as on his arid and barren planet finally began to rain. She had been the emotion of seeing that, among the rocks and the earth burned by the scorching heat, one miraculous blade of grass was blooming. It wasn't a return back to life, but it was a small promise whispered on lips of hope, hope that, as such, didn't bring happiness, just trepidation.  
«Are you sleeping?»  
Nerissa's voice surprised him as he chased those so very recent memories, hanging on his mind like burning candles. He turned towards her and found that she was looking at him in the dark, illuminated only by the pale moonlight, head resing on one hand and elbow keeping it up against the mattress.  
He smiled softly and ran his hand on her arm. «No, I'm not sleeping» he murmured, and she smiled back, her teeth flashing white in the dark. Her body slid in his arms with the naturalness of a river that flows back into its bed. Janos felt again the miracle of Nerissa's skin against his own, felt her rest her head against his chest as she breathed in his scent.  
«You smell good, Janos Audron. And you're handsome.»  
He smiled, running his hand in her long curls. «It's your beauty what puts the stars to shame» he said, voice rough from sleep, and she raised her head to look at him, stifling a laugh.  
«What? Can't I have a morning voice?» he asked, feigning annoyance.  
«You have a really bad case of bed hair, my morning-voiced vampire» she said playfully, running her fingers through it to dishevel it further. He let her do as she pleased, his eyes dancing with mirth.  
«I wish that was the main problem. You probably haven't seen my wings, dear» he said, grinning happily.  
«Well, your feathers are sticking out in all directions... I'll brush them down when we get up, is that okay?» she asked, caressing the thick bone protruding from his back. He smiled against her neck, feeling her heartbeat beneath the fair skin, still marvelling at how she didn't flinch or draw away, but instead held him closer, kissing the top of his head.  
They made love again, with the lazy and sensual pleasure of their still sleepy bodies, called back from their rest by a desire that was more mental than physical. They forgot the rest of the world in the way that only love makes forget.  
Later, while they lay beside each other, Janos looked again at the ceiling of the room, finding that he already felt more at home.

. . .

«Alright» Vorador said, examining the cut in his shirt. «You and broadswords are two parallel lines. You never meet.»  
«Sorry» Nerissa said, trying to catch her breath. Vorador was fast and surprisingly graceful despite his large muscles, and the blows he landed, though controlled, were still heavy. She was aching all over.  
She frowned though, she'd thought she'd done fairly good, considering it had been the first time with a sword for her.  
«Don't mention it, child. I'd foreseen it anyway -you're not comfortable with them. They are not your weapon. You don't act naturally around them.»  
The green-skinned vampire sheathed his own sword and took back the one Nerissa was holding.  
«What do you mean?» she asked, following him back into the armory as she tied her hair back again in a tight ponytail, so it wouldn't get in the way while fighting.  
Vorador hummed as he put her sword away. «I've lived for many, many years, child» he said, looking at the other weapons critically. «I've trained my fair share of fighters, both men and women, each one different form the previous. If the weapon is perfect for the person who wields it, there is a way of acting, a naturalness of movements that lacks where other weapons are concerned. You tried the broadsword, and though you're not exactly bad with it...»  
He didn't finish the sentence and instead took a pair of twin blades from the wall they were hanging on. Nerissa arched an eyebrow.  
«I couldn't wield one sword, now you are giving me two?»  
«Child of such little faith. I am the teacher here. No arguing.»  
Nerissa smiled crookedly and took the swords he handed her. They were long, slightly curved silver blades, the kind one would find in a book about the elves. The grip was made out of black wood and was very simple, just as both the rainguard and the crossguard. The grip then prolonged both backwards, forming the pommel, and forward, so that the blade seemed tro protrude from branches. They felt light and comfortable in her hands and sparkled deathly in the light of the sun that came in from the large windows.  
Nerissa followed Vorador back in the hall where they'd fought before. He unsheathed his sword again, checking the spell he'd put on the blade before beginning their session. It covered the blade with some sort of thick, slippery layer, so that the metal wouldn't cut in case of blows touching the skin. He didn't bother to cast the same spell on her blades and Nerissa smiled to herself at that.  
«Aren't you afraid I'll cut your shirt again?»  
«It was beginner's luck. It won't happen again.»  
She grinned, determined to show him otherwise. They studied each other for a moment, before Vorador lunged at her, whirling his sword. Nerissa tried to stop the assault, but she moved too slowly and yelped when his sword hit her on her side.  
Without thinking, she charged at him, but Vorador easily warded her blow off. She then aimed at the vampire's head, but at the last second changed direction, trying to hit him on the ribs. The loud sound of metal against metal echoed in the hall.  
«Improvisation... you learn fast, young one» Vorador commented, his eyes shining dangerously. His arm moved with lighting speed and Nerissa felt an explosion of pain at her head. She collapsed to the ground like an empty bag, feeling dizzy. With a grimace, she touched the side of her head, and felt her hand become wet with blood. «You shouldn't have done that» she growled, enraged, getting up. Her head spun, making her feel unsteady.  
Vorador arched an eyebrow -eye ridge?  
«Why not? An enemy wouldn't treat you delicately, and me neither. Should I encourage your incompetence to make you feel better? I don't think so.»  
He picked her swords up, handing them to her. «Again.»  
Nerissa snarled in a way that was almost vampire like and attacked again. Vorador dodged her blows easily, moving in a way that was as graceful as a dancer's.  
«Don't wave your arms, bend your knees» he hissed while stopping a particularly graceless blow. He kept on giving her instructions, then he stopped to show the woman how to make a particular move. «Try it again, but this time do so _slowly_.»  
They tried it again, exaggerating the movements, until the vampire declared himself satisfied. They resumed their furious fighting, but as much as Nerissa tried, she could never ward off more than a couple blows from Vorador.  
When they were done, Nerissa collapsed on the floor, groaning. She was aching everywhere, Vorador hadn't gone easy with that sword, that was for sure. Perched on the beams of the ceiling, Janos stifled a laugh.  
«What are you laughing at?» she grumbled, more than just a little irritated.  
«Oh, nothing. I just saw a young, strong woman being beat by an old man, nothing in particular» he said with a grin.  
«I'll pour honey on your wings while you're sleeping.»  
Janos laughed again as she got up. Vorador was grinning, his formidable fangs standing out against his skin's dark green. In an attempt at defending her wounded pride, she turned and stalked to the armory, muttering insults.  
«You know, girl,» Vorador's voice said from behind her, «I don't think I remember my Sire laughing so much before you arrived.»  
«I'm glad I provide good entertainment» she muttered, putting away the swords. Vorador cackled. «Oh, maybe to me, yes. But that's not what I meant.»  
Nerissa turned to face him and was forced to stop, surprised. The green-skinned vampire was looking at her with an expression that, hadn't it been Vorador -for god's sake, _Vorador_ -, she would have deemed grateful.  
«He looks happy, young one, and you don't know how long ago I've last seen him smile with mirth. I believe you're the one responsible for his current emotional state... and I find myself grateful. You may gloat. You have the bloodthirsty vampire Vorador owing you.»  
He said that with a relatively neutral expression, but she could guess how those words grated on his ego. She heard it in the veiled bitterness of his last sentences. She shook her head, stupefied.  
«You owe me nothing, Vorador, I already told you. I...» She sighed. «We... well...»  
«You two got it on, didn't you?»  
She caught him grinning and instantly decided not to soothe his wounded ego.  
« _Will you shut up!_ »  
«I'm actually glad, girl. I was really beginning to fear he'd made a chastity vow. I bet he didn't last more than a few minutes, though, what with two thousand years of ja-»  
«Vorador, if you don't shut up now,» she said with a dangerous look in her eyes, «I'll shove that sword of yours...»  
«Ah, already thinking of undressing me. My Sire must be misfiring in bed» he snickered.  
Nerissa groaned and stalked out, undoing the ponytail she'd forced her hair in.  
«Janos Audron, you have raised a freaking pervert!»  
Janos laughed from his spot six meters from the floor. «You just figured that out, my dear?» he said mirthfully, shaking his head.  
«I should have expected it. You, sir» she said, pointing a delicate finger towards Vorador, «have quite the reputation among the ladies of Uschtenheim.»  
«Oh, do I now?»  
«Of course. I think many of them just wanted their husbands to capture you so that they could have their way with you in the dungeons.»  
Vorador laughed at that while Janos unfurled his wings and glided from the beams. He landed gracefully behind the other vampire and Nerissa smiled fondly at him.  
«Anyway, I'm going to go and take a bath. With your permission.»  
Vorador grinned. «If you just wait a moment, I could show you the way» he snickered, and Nerissa huffed at his implications.  
Then...  
«Oh, no, I know the way, thank you. But I do have a favor to ask of you, if you don't mind, my lord.»  
Vorador's grin just broadened while Janos followed the exchange with interest.  
«By all means, my lady, ask away.»  
Nerissa smiled ever so innocently, batting her long lashes at him. «You wouldn't happen to have an hairbrush to lend me, do you? I appear have forgotten mine and my hair gets _so_ tangled...»  
She believed she'd never seen anyone change expression so quickly. Nerissa ran away laughing before the vampire could come out of his shock. Janos' burst of laughter reached her ears and she just laughed more, joyful and carefree.

. . .

«I can't believe it» Vorador grumbled, irritated, as he tried to get Zoe off him without accidentally hurting her with his claws. «It's not true».  
Janos just snickered. «I'll confess I have waited for this day to come for a long time, my son» he chuckled. «I didn't have the heart to shut you up; I'm glad someone did.»  
Vorador harrumphed and shook his head. Then he grinned. «So... all your qualms and worries, and then you take her to your bed anyway, eh? 'Too young', you said...»  
Janos gave him a sidelong glance. «Please don't start. I already have my doubts without you digging your claws in the wound.»  
«Oh, such a gory image for a jest.»  
«A jest that would have led to more, and in the very end to me questioning whether I was sane or not when I raised you.»  
Vorador snorted, shaking his head. «You weren't, father. All of Nosgoth is screaming so to you.»  
«You're lucky I care little for screams.»  
«Apart from the ones you tear from your woman.»  
Janos groaned.  
They talked about lighter matters for a while, until silence fell upon them, but neither was uncomfortable. After some time, Janos turned to his fledgling and asked: «How have things been at your mansion?»  
Vorador sighed deeply, but contentedly. «The usual, Sire. Three fledglings have returned from Nachtholm with good news. The lordling there seems genuinely interested in being on our side, and Moebius is more furious than ever for the utter failure at Uschtenheim. They tell me he's lost a maiden he'd had his eyes on for a long time... oh well. I can only be happy for the poor thing.»  
«Indeed we can.»  
«You should come back to the forest, Janos. You hide it admirably, but this forced solitude...»  
Vorador didn't complete the sentence. Instead, he said: «Come visit sometimes. Bring your woman along if you so wish. But just take your mind off that damned sword for a while.»  
Janos sighed deeply. He knew Vorador just worried for him, but this sounded way too much like the beginning of one of their endless arguments and the ancient vampire was in no mood for fighting.  
«Vorador, please» he said. «You know as well as I do that I cannot-»  
«I _know_. You don't need to remind me each time I tell you this.»  
Vorador exhaled. «You know, this world isn't worth it. You withering away for its 'salvation'. What is there to gain?»  
Janos shook his head, placing a hand on the green-skinned vampire's muscular shoulder. «Only innocent lives, my son» he said solemnly, but Vorador scoffed.  
«There's hardly anything innocent in Nosgoth anymore, Sire. I wish I never crafted the damn thing.»  
«Liar» Janos said, somewhat amused. He remembered all to well Vorador's pride in showing the finished blade.  
Vorador just huffed. «Think about what I said, Janos» he said, preparing to vanish and teleport back to his mansion. «You know my doors will always be open for you.»  
Janos smiled wearily and Vorador nodded at him in his silent farewell. His form was surrounded by a cloud of green mist as his body became almost transparent, before vanishing.  
Alone in the great silent hall, Janos closed his eyes, recalling and missing the days of long ago, when he and his fledgling hadn't been forced apart by cruel fate and obscure, distant prophecies.

. . .

Authoress' note:  
Aaaaaand here comes Vorry again! :) thank you so much for your kind reviews, I love you all! (don't worry about the Alétheia, they'll come back soon)  
I do not own in any shape or form the characters featured in this story -this also applies to the story's image cover and to the quotes at the beginning of each chapter. I only own my OCs and the story's plot.  
 **IMPORTANT** : since I have no clue on how to describe sword fights, I took most of the fight scene from Cristopher Paolini's fabulous _Eragon_ , so all credit goes to him. I'll try to write something on my own next time.  
Comments please!  
Have a good day/night and love Legacy of Kain!


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

 _Music is  
What feelings sound like_

. . .

Vorador's mansion was nothing if not luxurious: with its dark weathered stones and imposing structure, it looked more like a place where a royal court lived than a refuge for vampires. The warm light that shone through the high windows illuminated rooms that had been furnished with much elegance, if not sumptuously.  
The green-skinned vampire was looking out of one of those windows, towards the swamp and the forest that surrounded it. The sky was covered with dark clouds that promised storms and the rain was just beginning to tap on the glass.  
It had been a couple days since he'd last seen his Sire and his little human. Giving her lessons on sword fight had given him the excuse to begin visiting him again, even if the shadows of their last argument still made them tense from time to time. He'd truly missed Janos during the years they'd been apart, but his pride wouldn't allow him to go back without screaming in outrage. He was still firmly convinced of what he'd said, but once the initial anger had passed, he found himself willing to set their conflicting opinions aside in favor of a peaceful, if not somewhat tense, relationship.  
The rain tapped gently on the window, the clear drops leaving wet trails behind as they streaked down the glass.  
 _The rain..._  
As a human, he'd used to love it. Despite its acidic effects on his skin, he still liked the sound of it on his windows -as if those drops were searching for someone to hear their story, before they hit the ground. During the storms, he could often be found listening to the rain, lost in thought.  
«My Lord?»  
Vorador turned in a soft rustle of regal clothes and saw one of his fledglings, one that was quite old at that -she'd resisted a whole ten years under his command without getting herself killed. Pleased with seeing one of his successful children, he spoke.  
«Speak, child» he said with a fluid wave of his hand.  
«Our hunting party has returned. The hunt was more than successful, I dare to believe you'll be pleased with the result».  
Vorador raised an eye ridge, silently ordering her to continue.  
«They have captured a group of Sarafan that were wandering close to the forest. One of them is the new governor of Uschtenheim, the self-proclaimed Skeilihr Norwood... if it wasn't that his face is the one of the vampire hunter, Geoffrey Carmichael» concluded the fledgling with a bow.  
 _Geoffrey Carmichael... oh, this will be fun, indeed..._  
With a grin that showed his fangs, Vorador nodded at her. «I am most satisfied indeed, Geneviève» he said with a wolfish look in his eyes. «Take him to me and tell the hunters they're allowed to feed first from those pathetic whelps. They've more than earned their reward.»  
The young vampire bowed again and left on silent steps. Vorador turned to the window again, Whispering to his brides to join him immediately in his chambers. With a small flick of his mind, he then moved the soft, thick carpets out of the way, baring the hard, cold stone floor beneath. He didn't want any filth to end up on the precious fabric, and by the end of his interrogation of the man, he was sure there would be plenty of it.  
When his brides entered in the room, they did so silently, their combined scents reaching his nostrils and making him smile in satisfaction.  
«Vorador, dear» Ezra whispered, embracing him from behind as she leaned against his back. She barely reached his shoulder with the top of her dark red head, but she was beautiful and wicked in bed, so he wasn't going to complain. Chandra rested her black-haired head on his right shoulder with a purr, while Selene, always the quiet one, just brushed his hand with her pale one as she passed to sit on the chair that stood close by.  
«Who have you got this time, my dear?» Chandra murmured, caressing his shoulder with her tanned hand. Her dark red lips were curved in an inviting grin.  
«I'll have need of your assistance» he answered, extracting himself from their arms with a kiss on each of their hands. He then walked to Selene, who had been watching them with a tender smile, and tucked a lock of her red hair behind her pointy ear. He kept caressing her hair gently as two intimidated fledglings carried a bloodied man inside and threw him at his feet. Ezra growled excitedly as he raised a swollen face to meet Vorador's gaze.  
He spat a mouthful of blood at the vampire's feet.  
«You ought to ameliorate the appellation, but the rest of it is perfect» Vorador commented dryly, refraining from kicking him in the jaw for the insult. The man looked half dead already and he didn't want to accidentally kill him before he was thoroughly done with him. «Tie him on the chair.»  
The fledglings gasped slightly when he apostrophised them, but obliged in silence, easily restraining the struggling man on a wooden chair in the centre of the room.  
«Leave. Go find something to fill yourself with.»  
The younglings bowed deeply and hurried to get out of the room. Vorador smirked at their behaviour before turning his attention to his prisoner.  
«Geoffrey Carmichael» Vorador said with a mocking grin. «The infamous vampire hunter. You've proven to be a powerful enemy in more than one occasion. What has happened to your fabled skills, so that you now disgust us with your presence in my home?»  
«Theoretically» the man cawed, «it was your bloody little fiends that brought me here. Do not complain now, Prince of Vampires».  
Vorador snorted. «Do I need to tell you this will go smoothly if you tell us all you know?»  
The man laughed harshly. He knew he would never leave that mansion alive, so he was not going to make it easy for the green demon in front of him. And his women... monsters that were worse than him, because no gentle or kind soul would have called such a horrid creature their groom.  
«Very well.»  
Vorador nodded at Ezra, who walked to the man with a toothy grin. Her dark red hair fluttered behind her back as she glided gracefully over the floor, kneeling in front of the tied man. Carmichael followed each of her movements with growing anxiety, and though his expression remained hard and cold, when she stilled in front of him his breathing was harsh and accelerated, his eyes widening.  
«Now listen _very_ carefully, whelp, and answer truthfully. Why is your face the one of the infamous vampire hunter, and at the same time the one of the governor of Uschtenheim?»  
«Go to hell.»  
His voice shook.  
Vorador smiled. «And where do you think I come from?» He nodded to his bride.  
Ezra grinned, licking her fangs. A slash of her claws, and the fabric at the man's right leg came off with a ripping sound.  
Grinning widely, she nibbled at the naked skin of the man's thigh. Geoffrey Carmichael stoically kept his gaze fixed on a point over Vorador's shoulder.  
When the vampire bit down, sinking her fangs into the hard muscle beneath the tanned skin, the man flinched and let out a groan. When she began chewing, he closed his eyes shut, lips set in a tight line, hands gripping the chair's armrests so tight that the knuckles had turned white.  
For long minutes they just stood there, patiently waiting, as Geoffrey Carmichael's short breaths turned to whimpers and then to screams, while Ezra's teeth kept gnawing at his leg, creaking against the bone. He struggled wildly against his bindings, while the vampire woman, black lips tinged red with the blood of her victim, laughed throwing her head back at his efforts.  
«Moebius!» the man finally screeched, whole face damp with cold sweat, body convulsing with his violent struggles. «Lord Moebius hired me, told me he would take care of everything, please make her stop _make her stop I'm begging you_ -»  
«Ezra, darling» Vorador said sweetly, and his oldest bride sat back on her heels, licking the dark blood off her lips and chin.  
Carmichael panted, slumping against the chair, face pale as a ghost's. In the end, Vorador mused, he was nothing better than the young maidens he'd killed in the past: a little pain was enough to bend and break his resolve.  
 _Well_ , he thought, looking at Ezra's long, sharp teeth, _maybe the pain was more than just a little..._  
«Moebius» the man croaked. «Moebius hired me... told me to go to Uschtenheim... I thought it was for the winged one...»  
He shook his head. «He wanted the girl. The woman the vampire has taken -had had his eyes on her for ages now...»  
Vorador repressed a shudder of disgust. He mentally thanked his father for taking Nerissa when he'd seen her -he didn't even want to picture it, that old, slimy bastard with her...  
«What made him think the woman was still alive?» he snarled. «She'd been kidnapped by a vampire, one that is said to be a monster beyond any possible imagination...»  
He waited, but Carmichael was hesitant. With a growl, he nodded at Ezra, who still hadn't moved from her spot beside the man. The moment he saw the vampire bride move, his eyes widened and he let out a terrified scream.  
«NO! Please wait, I'll tell you everything, oh please no please-»  
«Speak fast then, whelp» Vorador growled. «I don't have all night.»  
Behind him, his brides chuckled.  
«He said he'd seen her» Carmichael said, speaking quickly, eyes rolling in his sockets like those of a madman's. «He said he could still see her, and the inside of the winged beast's den-»  
He was brutally cut off when Vorador backhanded him hard across the face. His head violently jerked to the right as the man gave a brief, pained shout.  
« _Never_ » Vorador hissed lowly in his face, « _insult my Sire in my presence_ ».  
Carmichael was shaking like a leaf in his seat, eyes wide and pupils dilated by terror. He didn't dare meet Vorador's gaze and didn't dare close his eyes either, so he kept on staring to the right, breathing coming in short, shallow rasps.  
«He could see them» he gasped, swallowing, «he told me the woman had an Eye on her body-»  
«Explain yourself» Vorador breathed, talons trailing slowly down the man's neck, baring his throat. Carmichael yelped in terror, his eyes eventually shutting tightly.  
«Please» he moaned. «Please, please don't hurt me-»  
The green-skinned vampire snarled. The man froze, breathing hard, tears escaping from his closed lids.  
«An Eye» he panted, «an eye of the snake that decorates lord Moebius' staff. It is made of the same stone of the purple orb, it allows him to see her wherever she takes it -please my lord, don't hurt me, that's all I know».  
Vorador hummed, pressing his talon down on the man's neck, drawing a thin red line that immediately began oozing blood. Carmichael gasped and shook against his bindings.  
«Truly?» the vampire asked. «Did he not tell you anything else? How to counteract his bloody orb's power, for example? Tell me the truth, boy. You wouldn't like to discover what I do to those who lie to me.»  
Carmichael sobbed, eyes tightly shut as he trembled violently in his chair. All the bravado he'd seemed to ooze before had flown right out of the large glass windows and Vorador smirked.  
«Nothing, my lord, I swear, I know nothing more-»  
«Then you've run out of usefulness.»  
The vampire Vorador was one of the most bloodthirsty creatures on Nosgoth, that was true, but if there was something he had, it was dignity and self-respect. He didn't even dream to sink his fangs in the little scumbag's neck, he just snapped it as if it was a dry branch. There was the sound of fresh wood that breaks, and Geoffrey Carmichael slumped against the chair, dead before his head could touch the headrest.  
His brides gave a little disappointed sound. They'd hoped for a slower, bloodier end, but Vorador wasn't in the mood. _It must be the rain. Bloody water softens me._  
«Do not be disappointed, my beautiful brides» he said softly, rising from the man's corpse in a sweep of heavy regal clothes. «We can have fun with someone from the pantry. Choose one... or two... and bring them in our chambers. They'll be our guests for the night.»  
Ezra, Selene and Chandra all laughed with dark glee. They loved when their groom spoke like that -his baritone voice dropping to a low, husky murmur that was as pleasant as a purr and as menacing as a growl. Vampires as they were, it was rare for them to know that someone could crush their skulls at the slightest whim, and despite that to feel safe and warm in that someone's arms. It was impossible to understand even to themselves when they thought about it -how they could love the edge of danger, the possibility of spilt blood. The fact that the blood could be theirs just added to their excitement.  
Vorador's generosity didn't go as far as to let them go without taking out the garbage first, but that was okay with them. As they dumped the man's corpse in the sewers, they thought that nothing came for nothing, after all.  
The green-skinned vampire frowned as he watched his brides rush out of the room. News like that carried a danger for the whole vampire race. His Sire's woman had been in that Aerie for weeks now, and for Janos not to notice such a spell, if he truly hadn't, it had to be very well concealed indeed. Which was totally possible, if it had been Moebius to cast it in the first place. Vorador could only hope that his Sire hadn't told her about the Soul Reaver or anything connected to it -the result of Moebius knowing any of that information would be the downfall of the vampire race.  
He fetched a quill and a piece of paper, quickly writing down a message for his Sire.

 _Come to the mansion as soon as you're able. We need to talk. Bring your woman and_ _DON'T TELL HER ANYTHING ABOUT THE S.R_ _. Cast an enchantment on her so that she's shielded from the effects of other spells. I'll tell you everything as soon as you're here.  
V._

Short and somewhat rude, but he couldn't just tell Janos everything on that letter. Letters could be lost. Letters could be read by the wrong people.  
Conjuring a dark crow out of thin air, Vorador rolled the message into a thin cylinder and tied it to its claw. He then opened a window, with the illusion of the animal on his arm, and watched it take flight towards the Aerie. Being an illusion, if someone shoot it all they would gain would be a cloud of green mist.  
 _Janos... what have you gotten into this time?_

. . .

Janos was getting out of the pool of rock oil when he heard the sharp tapping on his window. He glanced at it as he wrapped a soft towel around his middle, seeing a large black crow perched on the windowsill, a thin roll of paper tied to its claw.  
He opened the window with a flick of telekinesis, as his wings were sodden and dripping and he did not wish to splatter oil everywhere. The crow flew inside and landed on the towel rack, cawing loudly and without pause.  
«Ssshh, shut up, you bloody thing» Janos hissed as he reached for the animal. The crow just cawed louder, the vampire's ears ringing with the noise. If there was something Janos just couldn't bear, it was loud and pointless noises. He quickly snatched the paper from the animal's claw and the crow disappeared in a puff of green smoke, not without leaving a last loud, harsh cry.  
Rolling his eyes, Janos opened the paper and read through the few lines there, brows furrowing the further he went. By the end of the message, his expression was one of pure concern.  
He got dressed quickly, forgoing his outer robes in favor of a simple black shirt that immediately clung to his still damp skin, outlining the muscles on his front. He struggled a little with his wings, trying to force them into their proper place without ripping out any feathers, then went out in search of his -and his heart gave a flutter at the word- mate.  
He found her in the hall where she and Vorador usually fought, swords in hand, trying again the moves his fledgling had showed her. She'd tied her hair up in a tight bun and some locks had fallen out of it, framing her face, which was a little reddened from her strain.  
Janos stopped to admire her for a moment, still quite incredulous that she'd chosen to give herself to him. He understood what an act of trust it was, more so for her than for others, his Nerissa, whose only experience with men had been that of torture. But violence isn't sex, and sex isn't love. Love they had felt when they'd discovered together what message two people could communicate through physical contact. That Janos thought as he watched his songbird wield the swords, finding the tune hidden in her movements.  
Nerissa concluded her deadly dance with a graceful twirl, pausing for a moment with her swords raised in mid-air before lowering and sheathing them. Janos smiled, coming up behind her and gently placing his hands on her clothed shoulders. He could feel her smile before she turned and closed her lips over his own.  
His hands found her hips as they kissed, her hands sliding in his damp hair. She smiled against his lips and pulled away, her green, green eyes sliding appreciatively over his form.  
«You look good in these» she said, brushing her fingers agains his shirt's collar. «You're hot.»  
He chuckled as she parted from him to put away her swords. When she returned, she noticed the worried look in his eyes as she undid the bun on her head with a sigh of relief.  
«I'm going to cut it all someday» she grumbled, pulling at her hair, even if she knew she would never do so. «What's happened? You look concerned.»  
«Vorador» he said quietly, sliding the piece of paper in a pocket. «He sent me a message. He needs us at his mansion.»  
«What's happened to him?» she asked, her eyes flashing with worry, and Janos felt a sudden wave of gratitude at her concern for his fledgling.  
«I have no idea, he didn't say much in the letter -wisely, in my opinion, for letters can be lost and fall in the wrong hands...»  
His voice trailed off as he looked out of the large windows with a thoughtful expression. Nerissa waited for him to come back to Nosgoth, using that time to check on herself and deciding she needed a bath to clean up.  
«We're going there, right?» she asked when he turned again to face her. He hesitated, thinking of the urgent tone of those words, of the way the ink had splattered here and there, the sign of a quick hand scribbling furiously.  
Vorador never let ink spread on the paper.  
 _It's a mansion full of vampires. The only humans you'll find there are in the_ pantry.  
He weighed the option of going alone, but Vorador had asked for her, and he was sure his fledgling wouldn't put her in danger if it wasn't absolutely necessary. And he would be there if the need arose. Besides, she wasn't completely helpless either: if she had knocked Janos Audron out with a thought alone, he couldn't imagine what she could do to a mere fledgling. Probably make their skulls crack open from the inside like eggs.  
«Vorador needs help, I think» Janos said eventually. «And he needs you to be there along with me».  
Nerissa nodded solemnly as she brushed her hair out of the way. «Do we need to go immediately? I'd like to get cleaned up before we leave» she said, a little sheepishly.  
He nodded with a smile, knowing that Nerissa was still fighting her fear of being in the water -or rock oil, for that matter- with someone else present. It awakened too many ugly memories.  
She smiled at him and left with a kiss on his high cheekbone, disappearing down the hall with her black curls floating behind her. She stopped in her room -she still hadn't moved her few things in Janos', that would need time- to grab clean clothes, choosing a pair of simple black trousers that went with an elegant white shirt and black coat. It wasn't a very feminine choice of clothing, but she preferred it that way. She was going to a mansion full of vampires, it wasn't excluded that she would need to run or fight at some point, and she didn't want a dress to hinder her.  
When Nerissa entered in the bathroom, it was still steamy and warm. It smelled of Janos and of the soap he used for his wings, a smoky fragrance that reminded her of temple incense. She breathed in deeply, a smile gracing her features as she absorbed his scent.  
The bathroom itself was a large room made of cream-colored stone and it was the only truly lavish one Nerissa had seen in the Aerie. Torches brightened the walls and a large window let the users have an incredibly pretty view of the mountains. Shelves were hanging around with various colourful bottles on them, some with labels written in ancient runes Nerissa wasn't yet capable of reading. In the centre of the room, the round pool covered almost the whole marble floor, filled to the brim with transparent, scented rock oil. An advanced hydraulic system made it flow continuously in a purification plant, so that it was ever perfectly clean. It was an intimate and cozy room, after all, and Nerissa suddenly wished she'd taken Janos up on that offer to bathe together.  
She knew she would have backed out at the last moment, of course. Nerissa had never bathed with him -despite wanting to- because she didn't want him to see her scars if she could avoid it. She knew Janos had seen them closely when he'd snatched her from Abraham's clutches, but she hated to expose him to that hideous sight more than necessary -he felt them enough with her sleeping in his bed. She would often awake to him gently following their raised profile, his other hand caressing her hair.  
With a sigh, Nerissa shrugged out of her light dress and tried the oil with a delicate white foot. It was warm, perfect for a hot bath, and she smiled in satisfaction. She'd found out that she liked that substitute of water a lot.  
She was about to step into the pool when she caught her reflection in the mirror, the image making her come to a halt. The woman in the mirror was tall, extremely pale, with violaceous lips and burning green eyes. Her hair framed her face like dark tendrils, coming down to her hips in soft black waves. The play of light and shadow highlighted the muscles of her abdomen, arms and legs, where they weren't marked by those hideous scars. On the left tigh, the scar of a terrible burn grinned mockingly its tortured smile.  
All considered, she had a beautiful body. Tall, lean, not an ounce of fat on her.  
With a disgusted noise, Nerissa turned away. She hated it. She hated that perfection, because she knew where it was coming from. Twenty-two years of struggles, of fights, of wild resistance to equally wild pain.  
She bathed in silence, her scarred back firmly to the mirror.  
When Nerissa returned to his study -his balcony room, as she called it-, Janos had put a long, black leather coat over the shirt from before, the kind that reached your ankles and made you look either like a nobleman or an idiot. On Janos, it made him look like the hottest prince Nerissa had ever seen.  
«I could jump on you right here and now» she said, eyes glazing longingly over his form. He shook her head, smiling at her words.  
«Thank you. You're not bad yourself, my dear» he said softly, opening his arms in an inviting gesture. She didn't need to be told twice, as she jumped right in their strong hold, burying her nose in the hollow of his throat.  
«I love you» she murmured, placing a light kiss on his clavicle as his arms came around her, embracing her close. She felt a wave of deep, tender affection wash over her and didn't need to ask to know it was him.  
«I must cast a spell on you» he said lowly. «It will shield you from other enchantments, so I cannot cast one to protect you from the vampires in the mansion as well. I would do so if I could, but...»  
«Vorador said something about that as well, didn't he?» she guessed.  
 _Yes.  
-It's alright. I know you would never hurt me.  
Never, my dear. Never.  
_With a murmur of ancient runes, the spell enveloped Nerissa like a cloud of genlte mist and she gasped at its coolness, shivering. She'd never thought spells could be physically felt on the skin.  
 _We're going to teleport_ , Janos Whispered once it was done. _It might not be pleasant the first time.  
-What's it like?  
Like being squeezed through the eye of a needle. Magic is wonderful, don't you think?  
_ Nerissa laughed at that while she tightened her hold on him.  
 _Take a deep breath, my little one,_ he advised, and then the world faded in a dark blur and all air was squeezed from her lungs. Nerissa felt like she was being forced through an extremely small hole, with darkness crushing her from all sides, until she felt she could take no more and her bones would snap and eyes pop out of her skull. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it suddenly stopped and she could breathe again.  
Nerissa doubled over, hands on her knees, gasping huge gulps of warm, humid air that smelled of stagnant water.  
 _-Dear God, is it always like that?_ , she croaked at Janos, while he placed a hand on her back for support.  
 _One gets used to it with time_ , he answered, waiting for her to recover. He himself didn't particularly enjoy teleporting, although he'd been capable for centuries by now, so he mostly flew to the places he wanted to reach. But this time, with the journey being a long one, he couldn't fly to the mansion while also carrying Nerissa. Vampire he might be, but he was still alive and he felt the fatigue more than the others. Add the Sarafan in the mix and one could easily guess why he chose teleportation.  
 _-I think I prefer flying_ , came the answer from Nerissa, while she straightened again and brushed her clothes. _It was different, though._  
 _I'm sure it was. Are you alright?  
-Hmm-hmm. We better get going. It looks like it's going to rain soon.  
_Janos led her through the swamp and onto the bridges, careful to avoid the water. He noticed that his son had switched from wood to stone for the delicate and essential buildings, after the incident with fire three years prior, which had cost the lives of three young fledglings. Vorador had come to his Aerie with a dismayed look on his usually frowning face.  
When they were safely out of water's reach, he walked with her to the mansion's gates, opening them as she stared in awe at the grandeur of the building.  
 _-For the sake of all that's holy... it's..._ huge _!_ , she said, stupefied. _How many of you live there?_  
 _The last time I asked, they were fifty-seven. The number has probably grown since then._ His worry could be heard in his tone. _Stay close. They are less likely to attack if they see you with me.  
-If not, I can always break their minds with telepathy...  
And I want you to do that if the need arises. Maybe not make them go insane with the pain, just... you know... enough to knock them out.  
-I will. Don't worry.  
I can't help but doing so. If one of them attacks, _don't fight _. You aren't capable of defeating a vampire in combat, not yet. If you get attacked, hit them with telepathy and run. Understood?  
-Yes, mommy.  
Ha-ha-ha.  
_The walked across the courtyard, shadowed by both the dark clouds that covered the horizon and the tall, menacing statues that flanked the mansion's façade. Through the glass of the windows, Nerissa could see blurry figures scuttling around, probably preparing what all those vampires would need in case the rain lasted a long time, preventing them from hunting. As the first droplets fell, they found refuge beneath the luxurious marble portico, patiently waiting to be let in.  
«Vorador says he's sent a fledgling to retrieve us» Janos murmured. Nerissa took a step closer to him, squeezing his forearm gently.  
True to his word, a fledgling vampire appeared seemingly from nowhere shortly after, looking as if scared to death. He bowed deeply at Janos with an almost inaudible murmur of 'my Lord', before shakily showing them inside. Nerissa noticed with a raised eyebrow that he hadn't bowed at her, nor made a move to attack her.  
 _He thinks you're my gift for his Sire_ , Janos answered to the unasked question. _It is common among vampire lords to exchange slaves when visiting one another, and fledglings are not supposed to touch those. The older ones know I never do, nor does Vorador when he comes to the Aerie._  
 _-Oh. That's... well...  
Brutal?  
-Yes. A little._  
Janos didn't answer and the rest of the journey through the mansion was spent in silence. Nerissa didn't mind, being too occupied studying the huge, decorated halls they were crossing. She could see vampires running about, minding their own business, suddenly stop to look at them with a look of wonder in their eyes. Their golden irises were all fixed on Janos and the ancient beauty he represented, and she felt a surge of possessiveness take over her.  
 _-And he's mine. He's truly mine_ , she thought to herself, smiling with incredulity and a feeling so strong she felt it swell in her chest, growing until there was no room for anything else.  
They arrived in a great hall had tall columns and flights of steps on either side of the nave. The floor was partly covered with a soft red carpet and there was a statue of a winged man at the very end of the hall. A tall arch was how each flight of steps ended, and in one of their threshold stood Vorador, regal as always in his dark burgundy mantle and elegant shirt.  
«My Sire» he greeted. «Young one. Welcome in my humble home.»  
Janos smiled. «My son, always the humble one. I had forgotten how big this place was.»  
«It doesn't surprise me. You visit too little.»  
Vorador walked down the steps to come and join his Sire. «We need to talk.»  
«You said so in your message. You sounded worried.»  
The green-skinned vampire snorted as he led the both of them towards his own study, where his brides were waiting. «I am. We have a little problem with your human.»  
Nerissa arched an eyebrow at him. «What did I do?»  
«It's not something you've _done_ , young one. You see, I had a little talk with a friend of mine and he revealed quite the interesting information, if I do say so myself. I need to sort things out with my Sire first, then we'll tell you all you need to know. You casted the spell I asked of you, didn't you?» he asked Janos.  
«I did» the ancient vampire answered, «though I'll admit I trusted nothing more than your word, and I'd like to understand something more of all this».  
Vorador nodded, opening the double doors that led into his study, a large (obviously) room elegantly furnished with dark-colored furniture. The rain tapped gently on the stained glass windows, which reflected the light of the candles in an eerie glow. The whole place had a faint, pleasant scent of ink, old wood and new parchment.  
There, sitting in various spots of the room, were three women of terrible beauty -the kind of beauty that delivered only death.  
One of them had a cascade of long blood red hair that flowed freely halfway down her back and stunning golden eyes that gave her a feline look. Her creamy skin had an opalescent glow that was almost too beautiful to be real, and her full black lips were quirked in a grin that showed her fangs. She wore a dark red dress with bands on the front that let her stomach show and sat elegantly on the windowsill, long shapely legs bent to fit in the narrow slab of marble.  
The other two were sitting on the chair by the desk and on the desk itself. The former had pale skin that looked incredibly soft and beautiful half-lidded golden eyes. Her hair fell about her shoulders in locks that were the color of sunset -mostly orange, with golden and blood red reflections. Like the first woman, she had full dark lips that were the color of a starless night sky. Her lithe figure was wrapped in a soft forest green dress that made her look calm and pensive, but if the observer looked into her eyes, they would find someone who was used to astute and cunning moves.  
The one who sat on the desk had tanned skin that shoned bronze in the soft candlelight. Her straight, thick locks of black hair were tied back by a golden band that matched her eyes and clothing and emphasized the color of her skin even more. She had high cheekbones and a predatory aura around her, marked even by the way she was sitting -legs slightly spread, bent forward with her elbows resting on her knees. Her forearms and perfect hands dangled between her legs and she was looking at them with a dark air about her, her deep golden eyes shining beneath her impossibly long eyelashes.  
«Ah, my stunning brides» Vorador said warmly. «Young one, let me introduce you to the women who truly rule this mansion... Ezra» -the redhead waved from her spot on the windowsill- «Selene» -the one who sat at the table smiled- «and Chandra.» -the tanned vampire woman winked at her.  
«Hello, dear» she said in a deep voice that Nerissa found to be extremely sensual. By her side, Janos shifted while spreading his wings a little in warning.  
«Can we take her for our night together, my love?» Ezra asked Vorador, eyeing her with a hungry look in her eyes.  
The green-skinned vampire arhed an eyebrow. «I'm afraid this one is already taken. My brides, Nerissa Graves, who has quite recently become the mate of my Sire».  
All three vampire women turned first to her, then to Janos with stunned expressions. _I can't believe it_ , said those faces, and Nerissa shifted a little closer to him to prove Vorador's point.  
The trio blinked. The tanned one -Chandra- was eyeing Janos with a disappointed look in her eyes. Nerissa guessed what she was thinking as fought hard not to let her smile broaden.  
 _-I'm sorry, dear. This vampire is already taken, too_.  
«I need to speak with my Sire alone on important matters. I'd have you take the young one and make sure she doesn't get killed.»  
The redhead jumped down from the windowsill, snarling. «What?! You'd have us babysit a lousy human _whelp_?!»  
By her side, Janos hissed quietly. The noise was enough to shut the woman up.  
Vorador smirked at his Sire and turned again to his brides. «I would, my dear, and I suggest you not to take this task lightly. This one is precious... in more ways than one, I'm afraid» he said, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.  
The redhead hissed, but said nothing. At her side, Chandra got up with a resigned sigh.  
«What are we supposed to do?»  
«I don't know. Whatever you women do when you have girls' time» Vorador said dismissively. «Now out with you four. I find a scratch on her, and I won't step in when Janos kills you.»  
Unseen by Vorador, Janos smiled. Not his usual warm, kind smile, but one he'd reserved only for the Hylden he'd been about to kill.  
The three women winced at the sight and Ezra hurried out of the room with a resenful glare at Vorador. Chandra and Selene followed her more calmly, more curious than anything about the pale woman standing proudly beside Janos Audron. Selene smiled softly at her, admitting to herself that she wasn't half bad, to be a short-lived little human.  
«Come» she said gently, taking her by the hand -and was suddenly aware of how unnaturally cool it was, as if she'd just taken it out of cold water. With a slight frown, she sniffed the air, taking in her scent of peach flowers, irises, summer wind... and, hitting her like a battering ram, icy, vampiric darkness.  
«You-» she began, flabbergasted, but the human woman cut her off with a tired wave of her hand.  
«I smell like a vampire, I know. I reacted like that too.»  
Chandra and Selene stared at her, blinking like owls. Then they looked at each other, and smiled.  
As the led her out, they thought that maybe babysitting her wouldn't be so bad, after all.

. . .

Authoress' note:  
Thanks for your reviews, they always make me the happiest person in the world! I love you all!  
A special thank you and a big, big hug to Razieletta95, who left me a fantastic picture! Unfortunately I'm not exactly a fan of GOT, I just really liked the name Daenerys -but I might just look it up now that you've left me that inspiring little thing :)  
I do not own in any shape or form the characters featured in this story -this also applies to the story's image cover and to the quotes at the beginning of each chapter. I only own my OCs and the story's plot.  
Comments please!  
Have a good day/night and love Legacy of Kain!


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

 _Music is life.  
That's why our hearts have beats._

. . .

«You look gaunt» Vorador said. «Better than the last time I saw you, though. Have you finally begun to eat without guilt gnawing at you?»  
Janos looked at him with an arched eyebrow and a small smile, gracefully sitting on a stool. He then unfurled his wings, stretching them a little behind his back. He hadn't come to the mansion in more than two years and he'd missed the aura of home it enveloped him with. He felt positively relaxed, even in the face of the conversation they were going to have.  
His fledgling shook his head at his lack of response. «I missed your eloquent answers, Sire. I truly did.»  
Janos chuckled. «And I missed your snark, my son. It's been too long» he said with fondness in his voice, the torches casting beautiful shadows on his handsome face and playing with the feathers on his wings. His eyes shone like the purest gold, dark lips quirked in a smile.  
«It has been, indeed.» Vorador walked to the window, where he could see the rain fall on the swamp. He hoped the place wouldn't get flooded -it would be nearly impossible for the vampires in the mansion to go hunting if it did. Only a few in the mansion, beside Vorador himself, knew how to teleport, and they couldn't provide food for everyone.  
«I'll be honest» he began. «Your little pet is more trouble than she's worth».  
«Don't call her a pet» Janos said, rising his eyes skywards, and Vorador huffed. «My fledglings returned not long ago from a hunt. They brought back some Sarafan who were, it appears, travelling towards your Aerie. Among them was an old acquaintance of mine, Geoffrey Carmichael...»  
«Ah, the vampire hunter?»  
«The one and only. I interrogated him and he gave me some interesting information... I once asked you how had the Sarafan discovered your place, didn't I?»  
Janos' wings bristled. «If you think Nerissa told them-»  
«I don't think she did, don't get your feathers in a twist. It's unaesthetic.»  
«Can you speak plainly then, for once? And they tell me _I_ speak in riddles.»  
«Ha-ha-ha. So very funny. What I mean to say is that she showed them the place without meaning to. Carmichael told me one of the eyes of Moebius' snake staff had been placed on her. Same stone, reduced powers due to smaller dimensions. It allows Moebius to see the place she is in, along with all the ones near her. He can hear all she hears, so please tell me you haven't told her anything about the Soul Reaver.»  
Janos closed his eyes, fingertips united over the surface of the table. «Is your source a trustworthy one? I never sensed any spells on her.»  
 _Moebius has seen all._  
«If the stone is truly _that_ stone...» Vorador shrugged. «It's perfectly possible that its own powers concealed it. Or maybe it was Moebius, and with him being a spellweaver of your own ability...»  
The old bastard had violated his mate's privacy. He'd seen her crying, seen her smile, seen her as she read and as she fought with the swords. He'd seen her scars and had seen them together _._  
Janos closed his eyes.  
«I think the spell can be used in both senses» Vorador said lowly. «If we can find the stone and turn the spell around-»  
« _Turn, world_ » Janos recited, and his fledgling smiled.  
«Yes. He takes that damn staff everywhere, when he holds his councils, when he spies the servant girls, even when he _sleeps._ Seeing him would be an invaluable source of information.»  
The ancient vampire nodded thoughtfully. «How could that stone have ended in Nerissa's possession... she left Uschtenheim with nothing more than the clothes on her body, and those had to be thrown away...»  
Vorador was tapping on the table's wooden surface with a talon. «And he wouldn't have put it underneath her skin... if what Carmichael told me is true -and I'm sure it is- he wouldn't have wanted to mar it... he needed someplace where he was sure he could see without being annoyed».  
 _If you only knew how marred her skin already is. Fortunately Reinheit kept to her back._  
Then...  
 _The necklace. The anklet.  
But those don't have gems on them. I would have noticed them._  
But the crucifix was thick... quite thick. And the gem was small.  
Small enough to be contained where the two halves of the cross joined. A horrible  
 _(certainty)  
_ suspicion began gnawing at him, and he once more cursed Moebius.  
 _She never takes that cross off. It's in the perfect position to allow him to see everything. The bastard put the stone into the crucifix._  
«I never asked her where she got it» he whispered to himself. Vorador arched an eyebrow at him. «She never takes it off and I never asked her why...»  
His mind brushed Vorador's and the younger vampire stopped tapping. «The _necklace_?» he hissed. «The old bastard put the stone into the _necklace_?»  
«I can't be sure, but it would be the most logic place to put it. It rests on her front and I still have to see Nerissa without it on.»  
«We'll have to check» Vorador said. His expression was hard and cold, as if he'd just heard someone had violated one of his fledglings' privacy. It didn't particularly surprise Janos -many of his children had been turned when they were about Nerissa's age, and her vampire scent made it easier to confuse them with one of them.  
«It could have been a conspiracy between Moebius and her father» Vorador said, and Janos looked at him with an arched, questioning eyebrow.  
«Her scent» his fledgling explained, and Janos understood he hadn't been thinking to himself in the past few moments. «And part of her looks, too. If he wanted to get to you or me through Nerissa, it would only be natural to enchant her so that her scent and beauty seem those of a vampire. We'd be more inclined to trust her».  
Janos mused on that theory for a while, wings moving slightly up and down with his calm breaths. The rain was tapping harshly now on the glass, the mansion resonating with its sound.  
 _If what Vorador says is true... if they casted spells on her to make her seem a vampire..._  
Monsters, that was what they were. Like a lamb to the slaughter, they'd handed her over to the chance of the worst death possible. Outside their door, Janos heard the soft shuffling of running feet, as if some vampire had run straight down the corridor. From the soft sound of it, Janos supposed it was a woman.  
«Janos» Vorador said gently. The winged vampire looked up and saw that his fledgling had sat next to him, golden eyes gentle and... compassionate?  
 _No_ , Janos thought with force. _I refuse to believe that_.  
 _-You're in love._ Sincerely _so. You cannot think straight._  
Vorador's words were a bucket of icy water. The ice seeped down his spine, blood running cold with it, wings bristling wildly.  
 _I know her_ , Janos said, more calmly, as if talking to a stubborn child. _She would never...  
-What, exactly, do you know about her, Janos?_  
Then, out loud: «She never told you much about her past, did she? Nor about herself, her _present_ self. You know naught to nothing about the woman you call mate, but I bet she knows a lot about you. She spends a lot of time just observing you.»  
«But it doesn't mean that she knows about the stone» Janos hissed. «It doesn't mean she wants to hand us all over to the Sarafan. It doesn't mean she has a _deal_ _with_ _Moebius_.»  
«Do you think I'm having fun telling you this?! I've been thinking about it since I discovered about the stone. It's too strange, Janos. Even the story of the harp crumbles on itself. I can't believe that a young woman, educated to fear vampires like the plague, came to your Aerie because the court servants were bothering her with what dress to wear to the ball» Vorador said, ever so calmly. «I'm not saying she's lying _for sure_. I'm just saying that she _could_ be doing so. But if she is, then she's better at it than Loki himself. Play the part of the vulnerable, wounded little girl so that you'd fall for it -like a moth to a flame.»  
Janos shook his head at his fledgling's words. It couldn't be true. Not with what he'd allowed himself to feel again, after all that time. Not after what Nerissa had shown him. To think that Nerissa had played him like an instrument was to feel his every heartbeat hurt.

He couldn't end up broken hearted a second time.  
 _Her scars. Nerissa wouldn't show those to someone she didn't trust -she wouldn't have allowed me to Whisper, to get into her head.  
_ What if she'd let him see her scars so that she could appear innocent?  
 _No. Give her more credit than that. Give her the benefit of the doubt, trust her like she's always trusted you.  
_ He didn't believe Vorador because he trusted her, he realized. He trusted her with all of him, no matter how sudden or rushed their relationship had been.  
«Let us find her, then» he whispered. «And find out if all of it is true».

Vorador got up with a fluid movement. His eyes showed comprehension, compassion even, but not pity. He knew Janos wouldn't have bear it.  
«I may be mistaken» he said softly, «and your woman could be as innocent as a child. But I learnt to always consider the worst possible scenario.»  
He didn't say what that scenario would have comprised -that they'd have to kill her, after they'd tortured the information out of her broken form. The thought alone made Janos' heart clench.  
 _It won't happen_ , he thought. _I know._  
He hoped.  
It was then that Selene bursted through the doors, face pale, screaming for help.

. . .

«Those clothes won't make you look hotter in the least, dear» Chandra declared, eyeing Nerissa critically. «And will make your man bored».  
«You should try this one» Selene said, picking up a silk lilac dress with a vertiginous neckline. «It'd make you innocent and sexy at the same time.»  
Nerissa had been trying to divert their attention from her clothes and her body for ages, but eventually she'd given up as all her efforts resulted fruitless. She was now shaking her head with an indulgent smile as the two vampire brides fussed over her.  
«I's a pity that Ezra refused to join us» commented Chandra, her tanned skin a dark velvet against the lilac silk. «She would have loved to play with your hair.»  
«She doesn't like me much, I think» Nerissa murmured. «I'm sorry you're stuck babysitting me».  
Selene waved it off wit a light gesture of her hand. «You're good company. Ezra is an old harpy and is missing a lot of fun.»  
«Even though you don't look particularly interested in ''girls' matters'', as Vorador calls them» Chandra remarked. «As if he didn't like it when we get ready for him.»  
«Oh gods, not you too» Nerissa pleaded. «Your husband is enough, thank you».  
The two vampires laughed, then Chandra asked: «So it is true? Our Vorador is giving you lessons on sword fight?»  
«He is. I know you have probably heard it a million times, but he's a most amazing swordsman.»  
The brides nodded proudly, unable to contain their giddiness at the compliments their love was receiving.  
«Why didn't Janos teach you?» Selene asked. «He was -still is- a fearsome warrior, after all».  
Nerissa shrugged. «I don't know, but then again, I wouldn't want to look at him thinking of all the ways I could hurt or kill him, just _assuming_ he'll block my attack.»  
The two nodded in agreement, putting the dress away. «Assume, indeed. _Ass-uming_ is readying yourself to get it up your _ass_ , never forget it, babe» Chandra said. «And speaking of that, congrats. Your vampire has a _great_ one back there».  
«I know» Nerissa said with a grin.  
«Did you really get to meet him just with a _harp_? Most of us are lucky if he gets down his ivory tower because of the humans' mass killings» Selene said with a hint of bitterness. Nerissa frowned at that, confused.  
«What do you mean?»  
«Didn't he tell you? It's said that he has some kind of 'mission' to complete, to guard a mystical sword that will be in the hands of the Vampire Savior. They call it the Soul Reaver. This mission keeps him from leaving that eagle's nest, even though he suffers, being locked up there with no chance to escape. He and Vorador often argue because of that.»  
Nerissa was silent as she took the information in. Janos had never told her anything about a Soul Reaver, but then again, they'd been so completely caught up with the sudden feelings growing inside them. Nerissa being in love for the first time in her life and Janos allowing himself to feel after all those years. The young human realized she didn't know much about the vampire she called hers, and though the thought unsettled her a little, it didn't bring the worry she feared.  
 _We have time. We have all the time in Nosgoth. We have eternity._  
Eternity. Time was too slow for those who wait, too swift for those who fear, too long for those who grieve, too short for those who rejoice. But for them, a human and a vampire who loved, time was eternity.  
She realized she wanted to spend that time with Janos, in the freedom of their bond that wasn't tied and chained by marriage. A bond that didn't need papers and rings to be proven true.  
 _I love him_ , she thought. _I truly, completely, utterly love him_.

«He has never told me anything of that» she whispered softly, almost forgetting what they were talking about.  
«And he was ringht in doing so, whelp» a new voice growled, making them all rise their gazes.  
Ezra was standing in the doorway, breath hissing though clenched teeth, lips pulled back on her fangs to show their velvety interior. Her golden eyes were flashing with anger, dark lightning against a sky that promised tempest.  
Nerissa stood up, too used to that look not to know what it meant.  
«What exactly is the matter, Ezra, dear?» Selene asked with a soft voice, but her gentle tone only seemed to enrage the redhead further.  
«What's the _matter_ , you ask?» she hissed. «What's the _matter_? _She_ is the matter, Selene! This filthy human is a disgusting traitor, a sneaky little witch, a liar! Didn't you hear what she has on her body? Yet you were there when Carmichael revealed it to us.»  
The three of them stared at her, confused. Nerissa understood how she could consider her a lousy human child, but to think she was a traitor... a traitor to who, indeed? Besides having no-one to betray Janos for, Nerissa didn't have the desire to hurt him in the least. She tried to say so, to ask just _where_ she could have heard such a thing. But Ezra didn't let her speak, pointing at the cross hanging from her neck, quietly resting above her breasts.  
«The Eye of the snake» she hissed, «is contained in that cross, Moebius watching through it as though it was a window. She's spying for him, don't you understand?!»  
«I would never do anything for that filthy piece of scum!» Nerissa exclaimed. «Who on Nosgoth in his right mind would? The man is a bastard, a pig and a murderer. I don't want anything to do with him.»  
«But what do we have to be able to believe you?» Ezra growled. «Nothing, my dear girl. The Eye on your being is more than enough a proof.»  
«Ezra, _stop_ » Chandra said sharply. «We all heard what the hunter had to say. We've been cautious ourselves around her. But she could also be unaware of what she's carrying. The spell Lord Audron placed upon her is meant to throw sand in Moebius' eyes.»  
«Lord _Audron_ » Ezra spat. «That old fool wouldn't see wrong within her even if she stabbed him in his bed.»  
She turned to Nerissa, eyes like lightning and snarls pouring out of her delicate throat. For the first time, Nerissa wondered whether the tales were true -if her hair's colour really derived by the blood she consumed. Her second thought was _'Don't you dare call him a fool, you ugly bitch'_.  
As if Ezra had heard that last thought, a loud, wolfish growl erupted from her lips.  
«You may fool that old pathetic crow of Janos Audron, and maybe even my husband, but you can't fool me, whelp. It's too strange. Your smell, helping Anaxagoras and Argyros, even the story of the harp -all of it sounds too _planned_. And now they discover you've been showing Moebius the Aerie for weeks and _no one_ gets suspicious? I educately _disagree_.»  
«You're crazy» Nerissa whispered.  
«And you're a fool. A _dead_ fool.»  
The attack was as sudden as it was effective: no more than a second later Nerissa felt a burning pain in the arm she'd raised to protect her face. But her response, a response she'd feel vaguely proud of later, while she clawed desperately at consciousness, was immediate.  
A powerful kneeing landed in the vampire's stomach and a second later her face exploded in pain as Nerissa elbowed her cheekbone hard. In the back of her head she felt Selene and Chandra trying to hold her back, but all she could focus on was the traitor's face as she bolted out of the room, down the corridor -and, she noticed with a bloodthirsty grin, in the wrong direction: in her haste, she'd forgotten Vorador's study was the opposite way.  
Unable to wash the grin off her face, Ezra got rid of her wives with ease as she ran down the corridor in graceful, deadly leaps. The traitor's smell was powerful in the air, guiding her always closer despite her prey's fast, elf-like lope. She had to admit, the little bitch knew how to fight. Her cheekbone didn't throb anymore, thanks to her vampiric healing abilities, but the speed of her attack had caught Ezra off guard.  
 _All the better_ , she thought. _I'll have fun with you. I'll take my time. And you'll be awake and alive to feel it_.  
She was getting closer, she knew. She had to get her, fast, because the little human could call for Janos at any given moment, and Ezra didn't want anyone to interfere in what she was going to do.  
The bitchgirl's scent  
 _(still sweet, no fear, I'll change that)_  
was getting stronger, and it was with a slight frown that Ezra noticed they were getting closer to the armory. Surely the girl couldn't know where they kept their weapons.  
She sprinted past the corner of a wall, the speed with which she was running forcing her to leap on it to avoid crashing on it. She leapt to the floor after a moment, snarling, slowly coming to a halt as her steps' sound was muffled by the carpet. The human's scent was strong, very strong, and it got even stronger as she walked past one of the wooden doors that opened in the corridor.  
Ezra smiled.  
 _The bitchgirl's an imbecile_.  
Did she actually think that she could fool a vampire wth that little trick, old as time as it was?  
She threw the doors wide open, grinning when she saw that it was only an old storage room where their servants had put canvasses, paint and brushes. There were a few musical instruments attached to the wall and the room smelled of fug and dust, of barely a whiff of fresh air, and of irises and summer wind.  
«You're a little old to play hide and seek, don't you think?» she cackled, walking in the room and closing the doors behind her. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness, detailing the canvasses' contour, the instruments, the small table with the brushes.  
But no trace of the traitor.  
Ezra scanned the room, growling, but she couldn't find the crow's pet anywhere. Even the darkest corners were empty.  
 _She can't have just volatilized_ , she thought. _She's here, somewh_ -  
A sharp pain in her back, and Ezra howled.  
 _(what)  
(the bastard)  
(STABBED ME)_  
But  
 _(how)_  
where had she hidden, where was the knife?  
All that rushed in her mind in less than five seconds and Ezra whipped around, the bones in her back popping as her vampire body proceeded to sew her flesh back together. The bitchgirl was there, panting, eyes like burning green coals, a bradawl in hand.  
She'd hit her. Twice.  
 _Bradawl? How could she-  
Storage room. Right. Storage room_.  
But where had she hidden?  
A look above her head answered the vampire's question. The wooden beam that protruded from the wall just above the door, the crates and old chairs piled up like an invitation to climb them.  
«You're a cunning one, aren't you, bitchgirl?» Ezra asked, her eyes sliding back to her prey's.  
«I do my best».  
The little bastard actually had the courage to _answer_ _back_.  
«I'm glad. I'll do my best to kill you swiftly, but I don't make promises.»  
And Ezra lunged.  
This time Nerissa was expecting it. Putting those twenty-two years of torture to good use, she slashed with the bradawl, opening a bleeding gash on the vampire's cheek. It was her only second of glory, though, because the next thing she knew was the blinding pain of Ezra's vicious bite in her hand. Her fingers opened and her poor weapon clattered to the ground, the sound going unnoticed underneath the more powerful one of her scream. She kicked the vampire again, punched with her fre hand, but to no avail.  
The pain of the bite was blinding.  
No. _Infuriating_.  
How could she get _angry_ when she was supposed to be afraid, Nerissa didn't know. She didn't even know how her bones hadn't yet snapped from the strain on them. Without thinking, she stopped struggling against Ezra's grip, instead pushing her bitten hand back along with her head, elbowing her throat with her free arm. Ezra chocked and coughed, letting go of her arm, but by then Nerissa was aready on her.  
Nerissa didn't know where the strenght to hold her own against Ezra was coming from, and honestly she didn't care. It turned out, though, that as much as she liked that strenght, it still wasn't enought to hold Ezra down and make her see reason.  
The vampire roared and lifted her clean off the floor, hurling her on the brushes' table. The items scattered everywhere as she crashed hard on the wood, the force of the throw making the table break. Ezra was on her in a flick of mind, and Nerissa had time to wonder at the way she could twist her body to fit above hers, before the vampire bide smiled at her, showing her fangs.

«You're slow, my dear. You hurt me, that's true, but you can't kill me if you don't rip my heart out» she hissed. In her eyes Nerissa saw whole worlds of _stars sea forest rivers lightning_.  
Ezra's grin widened. «They were wrong in choosing you.»  
And just like that, with no warning, as sudden as a slap in the face, the vampire's fangs sank into her throat.  
Her green eyes went wide as the blood began to flow, as the pain wiped her mind with a sudden blow that was like a whiplash. Her hands clawed desperately at Ezra's back, her force diminishing with each passing second, each drop of blood that left her body.

 _She's... she's draining me...  
_ Out of the corner of her eyes, she caught something. Something long and thin and wooden.  
She moved a hand, eyes shutting to fight the pain, fingers closing over its handle.  
 _One chance, Nerissa. Only one chance._  
But it was enough. It had to be enough.  
Summoning the last vestiges of strenght in her body, she raised her arm with a serpentine movement and drove the brush into the vampire bride's ear.  
Ezra jerked her head back, howling in pain, as Nerissa's hand got sprayed with blood. She kicked the vampire hard in the stomach, getting her off, and crawled backwards, feeling like her limbs wighed at least ten tons each and panting with the effort.  
Ezra ripped the bloody brush out of her head, growling like a rabid wolf. «You little-»  
 _-LEAVE ME ALONE!  
_ The force of the thought hit her full force in the centre of her being, wiping away all thought in a single, powerful white blast. Ezra shrieked like a fox that had its limb torn off by a leghold trap before slumping to the ground, nose and eyes bleeding, unconscious.

Nerissa stared at her, panting, her hand pressing on the gory wound on her neck.  
 _It will leave a scar_ , she thought, out of turn. _It will leave a scar, another scar, another_...

 _Why didn't I hit her with THAT sooner?  
I have to get out of here._  
She pulled herself up on shaky legs, eyes never leaving the vampire's still form. She limped to the door, opening it, staggering out. Her leg hurt where she'd painfully twisted it in her fall against the table.  
She was alive. Still alive.  
 _Not for much longer_ , she thought as she  
 _(imagined)_  
heard footsteps approaching. _If she awakens... if she returns... I..._  
She barely registered falling against the wall as two figures approached, one pale and green, the other bronze and golden.  
 _I won't..._  
And the world faded away in a cloak of blessed darkness, her eyes rolling back into her head as unconsciousness took her.

. . .

Authoress' note:  
Sorry for the long wait, this chapter was a real bitch to write :( I kept procrastinating it without reason, forgive me pwease *puppy eyes  
Anyway, thank you for your reviews and for sticking with this story! You're the most amazing people ever! :-*  
I feel like I've rushed things between Janos and Nerissa way too much. What do you think? Should I change something about the story? Also, is the term 'vampiress' correct to define a female vampire, or did I just come up with it from nowhere? -.-'  
I do not own in any shape or form the characters featured in this story -this also applies to the story's image cover and to the quotes at the beginning of each chapter. I only own my OCs and the story's plot.  
Comments please!  
Have a good day/night and love Legacy of Kain!


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

 _You have the sun,  
You have the moon,  
You have the air that you breathe-  
And you have music._

. . .

Black  
Red  
Black  
Hernais, her eyes like living silver.  
Mary, her mouth deformed in an accusing snarl.  
Thomas, blackened hands that clutched at his chest to keep his body together.  
Abraham, grinning through the blood in his mouth.  
Someone else. Many people with golden eyes. Many...  
Red everrrything rrrred  
Black  
Red  
 _White_.

A feather.  
It was black, then grey, then white. Very long. Very large. So very white.  
Too few colors. Too many colors. Too much silence. The silence was _deafening_. Too much light and the place was too dark.  
Nerissa slept.

Dreams are weird little things. You are there, and in the same moment you aren't. The world _turns_. When the dream is real enough, you think you can touch things, you can feel them beneath your fingers.  
She could feel it beneath hers in that moment. The feather. The white feather. Dry, waxy, much like Janos' own. White. Falling endlessly, turning, fluttering, turning again.  
 _(turn, world)  
The Sarafan were gathering. Moebius was staring, furious. His eyes were, again, blind.  
Valstrath Lancaster. The feather belonged to Valstrath Lancaster.  
The feather was still falling.  
The feather.  
The feather was-  
_ «Still falling» she mumbled, awakening.  
She was feeling _too much_. The fabric on her body, the light warming her face, the dry smoky fragrance that reminded her of incense and old stone rooms -a scent that was deliciously _liquid_. It was all coming back to her, ten times stronger than before.  
The feather fell, fell, fell.  
 _Stop. Please just stop falling_.  
 _Just stop and let me sleep._  
«... ved? Nerissa?»  
And _GODS ABOVE TOO LOUD_  
«Too loud... too loud» she rasped, not really knowing who was calling her. She took a breath and air filled her lungs with a thousand new smells.  
Confused silence. Then, in a much lower voice:  
«Nerissa? Look at me, please...»  
She turned towards the voice, daring to open her eyes a bit. She hissed when the light stabbed them, pain fluttering and then disappearing as swift as it'd come. She rubbed at them, sitting up on aching bones as she felt the soft surface shift.  
The figure that was sitting beside her was large, cloaked in black, with azure skin and golden eyes. It was so... so...  
 _Detailed_...  
«Janos» she whispered, incredulous and so very overjoyed. His face was so _beautiful_ , with the way the shadows played on it, and his eyes, eyes like burning lights...  
She was suddenly aware that she'd been staring, too surprised at his sheer _beauty_ to even think of doing anything. Her memories were foggy, as if she'd been living them wearing dirty lenses. She remembered Ezra, though, and the blood. She suddenly understood how weak she was, how close she'd been to dying and losing him forever. Janos opened his mouth to say something, when he was suddenly, fiercely silenced by a pair of cool, soft lips against his own.  
Nerissa felt his arms come around her and tightened her grip on his neck. She felt his strong body shift to settle more comfortably on the bedding, accommodating her form against his, their lips molding together. Distracted by the bouquet of scent and taste that was Janos' kiss, it was only a moment later than Nerissa noticed just how _stiffly_ the vampire was holding himself.  
Nerissa shifted back, parting their lips to look at him. His eyes bore the look of softness that she she was accustomed to, but beneath it was an emotion that she'd never seen on him before, and yet could recognise immediately.  
Anger.  
The woman put her hands on his shoulders, leaning back. «Janos?»  
«Just what the _hell_ were you thinking?!» he hissed, eyes narrowing and lips curling angrily on his teeth. Nerissa stared at him in complete, utter shock and confusion.  
«Wha-»  
«Don't you dare ask me what happened. Didn't I tell you _not to fight?_ »  
Oh.  
Oh...  
 _Oh_.  
She stared at him with wide open eyes. «I... I...»  
«'You' _nothing_ , Nerissa! You could have _died_! Engage in a fight with a fully transformed vampire...»  
«She _attacked_ me! I did nothing to-»  
«You should have called for someone! Someone who could-»  
«Well, sorry if I'm not used to telepathy yet! I tried, Janos! I know I should have called, but I really didn't _remember_ -»  
«Your little 'not remembering' almost costed you your life» Janos hissed, his voice still low despite the obvious anger on his face. «It was a miracle you survived long enough for us to find you.»  
Nerissa breathed deeply, trying to calm her irritation down. «Look, I'm sorry, alright? I truly forgot. I'm not all that familiar with the Whisper. It doesn't come as a _reflex_. I still have to concentrate to do it, and in that moment I wasn't in the best of situations to calm down and call.»  
Janos saw the sincerity in her emerald eyes and it calmed his anger a little. She reached with a hand to cup his cheek.  
«I'm sorry» she whispered. «I'm sorry, Janos. It was... really... I couldn't concentrate enough. I was too angry.»  
«Angry.»  
Nerissa frowned a little.  
«Angry. Not afraid.»  
«Yes...?»  
Before Janos could tell just how abnormal that was, along with her actually managing to defeat Ezra armed only of a _brush_ , someone knocked twice on the wooden door of the bedroom. A second later Vorador entered the room, followed by two hard-eyed fledglings. Janos' body stiffened and his wings flared a little, his grip on Nerissa's arms tightening, but he said nothing.  
Nerissa felt the colours of Vorador's clothes like a punch in the eye. His scent was deep, rich and powerful, screaming _danger_ to all those who approached him. Her first instinct, and one she had to fight hard, was to bare her throat to him in submission.  
«Ezra will be punished, whelp» Vorador said as a greeting in his deep voice. «You were meant as a guest, not as food.»  
«You won't kill her, I hope» Nerissa said. Despite disliking the vampiress (and who could blame her), she didn't want her to die just because she was worried for her family. _In her position I would probably have done the same_.  
Vorador scoffed. If he was surprised by her concern, he didn't let it show. «No. She explained her reasons, and they're valid ones. She still disobeyed a direct order from me, and will be treated accordingly.»  
Nerissa nodded slightly, leaving Janos' arms to lean back against the headboard. She self-consciously pulled the sheets a little higher, hugging them to her chest. «Valid reasons?» she asked.  
«What do you remember of what she said, young one?»  
The woman shook her head, the movement sending pangs of pain from her neck. Her temples were pulsing with the beginnings of a migraine. «Not much. Absurd things... things that couldn't be true...»  
«No?»  
«She said Moebius had given me something, that I was helping him in finding the mansion, in finding Janos... but...»  
She caught Vorador's gaze, his glowing golden eyes. She saw wariness, suspicion, a look of cautious distrust.  
«No» she said, shaking her head impetuously. «I didn't help him, I swear on my life. I never had anything to do with him».  
«Can you prove what you're saying, my love?» Janos asked gently, and her head whipped around to stare at him, flabbergasted.  
«You... you too?! You can't believe that! How could- why should I betray you after... after...!»  
Janos tried to touch her shoulder, but she slapped his hand away with a stupefied, hurt expression on her face.  
She thought he loved her. More even, she thought she he _trusted_ her.  
«We're not accusing you, child, so stop whining so much» Vorador snapped. «We asked you if you can prove what you're saying.»  
Nerissa suddenly became aware that she was in a room with four fully turned vampires, alone, horribly weakened and wounded. She was suddenly aware of the risk she was taking. She was walking on a thin thread that hung above the river.  
For the second time in all those weeks, she felt fear in their presence. More still, she knew they could smell it too.  
She tried frantically to find something, anything that could convince them, only to find that she didn't have proof. All that she had were her thoughts, her memories.  
Her _memories_.  
She lowered her head until her forehead rested on her knees.  
«I have my memories» she whispered, voice muffled by the sheets, unable to meet their eyes.  
Vorador arched his eyebrows, a little surprised. «You'll let me inside your head then» he concluded.  
«Maybe it's best if I do it» Janos said gently. «Her mind is... powerful. You could get hurt.»  
 _And you're not the most delicate person I know, either_.  
Vorador dismissed him with an uncaring wave of his hand. «No. I trust you, father, but... this human...» He shook his head. «I'm used to pain. I'll be careful. Ready, whelp?»  
No, she wasn't ready.  
Why couldn't Janos do it?  
Vorador would think her such a weakling.  
Nerissa nodded quietly.  
«Please, leave us» she whispered.  
Janos frowned. Vorador nodded in approval, sending the fledglings to wait out of the door.  
«Janos, _please_.»  
The ancient vampire sighed. He followed the fledglings without further questions, just brushing her mind with his own to send a wave of _supportcareconfusionlove_.  
Nerissa lifted her face, smiling a little.  
 _-I love you_.  
 _I love you too, little one._  
Then, privately to Vorador: _Don't be too hard on her_.  
Vorador closed the doors once his father was out, minding the long primaries that brushed the floor. When he turned to the child, she was sitting straight in bed, the sheets still tangled about her body.  
«Normally I would do this with a bite» Vorador said gruffly, taking a seat on a stool by the bed. At the same time, he began setting barriers of his own so that her thoughts would only slightly brush the surface of his mind, like a gentle layer of fog, instead of hitting him full force in the centre of his being. «But you've lost too much blood for that. I will enter your mind to see your memories, child. It will feel... unwelcome at best, hurtful at worst. If you set barriers of any kind, I'll attack you. Please note that a telepathic attack from me could very well kill you, so don't try any funny business.»  
«What do I do if there are barriers that I can't control?»  
Nerissa was thinking about the memories of Mary, Thomas, Hernais. And the river. She always tried to think about them as little as possible.  
«I'll work past them. They'll probably only be makeshift ones anyway.»  
 _I tried to make them the sturdiest I could_.  
«What of... private memories?»  
Vorador sighed. «There's no such thing as privacy when someone wants to search information in your mind. All you are, everything that _makes_ you who you are is laid bare before another. There aren't ways to sneak off, child.»  
«I understand.»  
«Ready?»  
«I don't know.»  
«Very well.»  
And suddenly she felt him. Vorador. Vorador was inside her head, and his conscience was _immense_. Nerissa felt her own being getting pushed down and slightly crushed by all that raw power, all that knowledge cluttered in Vorador's body. So little room.  
 _You wouldn't say so if you saw all of me,_ Vorador said.  
 _-Shut up_.  
Her voice sounded low and very distant, as if she were talking from a great distance. Still, the thought made a slight ache form around his temples, like the beginning of a headache.  
Ignoring the pain, he didn't answer with words, just with a low rumble of laughter as he began looking through her memories. Her mind appeared to be like a huge, ancient library. Every memory was neatly piled upon the shelves, from the most recent to the oldest. He began to move around the place, not overly aggressive but not gently either. Vorador could feel Nerissa's attentive gaze following him and realized, in a rush of stupor, that she was observing what he was doing to replicate it in future.  
 _Taking the most out of everything, aren't you, child?_  
 _-I have to_. Her voice sounded wary, worried. Her answers were clipped, discomfort pouring off her in waves.  
Vorador went through the most recent memories easily enough, with no barriers whatsoever to block his path. He tried to soften his presence as he saw Nerissa and Janos together, feeling her blushing hot red and tactfully avoiding to comment on it. It was when he came closer to the time of Uschtenheim that it became harder to proceed.  
He had to struggle a little with some fragile walls before he saw corpses on the floor, a man, an old woman and a little girl, feeling himself flooding with a sorrow that wasn't his own. He saw how they were killed, saw the vague smile on Abraham Reinheit's face, felt her desperation crawling on his skin.  
The man's face deformed in an expression of pure horror as he saw his little sister being ruthlessly killed, his agonized howl as he took her in his arms and the way that scream was abruptly cut off when his body was speared, torn to pieces. The look in Mary's dead eyes as they accusingly watched Nerissa, because she should have saved them, should have kept her mouth shut, should have never brought them into her folly.  
 _Mary. Her name was Mary_ , Vorador thought. _The man had been tricked and the child paid the price_.  
He saw many people, reunited in a hall. A ball. Moebius stood in front of him, grinning his sick smile, his purple orb shining weakly in the bright light there. He felt Nerissa's disgust as if it were his own, felt his fingers trail up her thigh and the hard slap she delivered right to his mouth. He smiled.  
 _Nice blow, kid.  
-Thank you_. Her voice was weary.  
Still going back. Vorador was now participating as his two fledglings were freed, as the humans moved quickly and efficiently to get them out of the fortress. He felt a wave of _pridehappinessrelief_ that wasn't his own.  
Janos. Their first meeting. _Attractionlovetenderness_.  
A banquet in the fortress. Diamond earrings being casted away. A little message that had changed everything. _Stuporgratitudeamusement_.  
Their first conversation. Happiness, pure and simple happiness.  
Getting caught by the ancient vampire as she played the harp. Her escape. A spike of _fearshameregret_ and a powerful thought.  
 _''He's beautiful.''  
_ Back still. All the months she'd played at the lake, finding her safe haven in the shadow of Janos' Aerie.  
Abraham's tortures. How after some time she began to get used to them. Vorador saw her scars through her eyes and his own narrowed.  
Back, running back. The life at the castle. Boring. Boring. _Annoying_.  
A small, beautiful striped kitten was purring on his lap. His hands, tiny little palms as pale as a marble statue's, were caressing its head with the glee and unique gentleness only a child could possess.  
It was getting harder to proceed. One particular memory was shielded from him, even if through the barriers he could hear the roar of the water.  
 _-Vorador_...  
He could hear the fear in her voice, the desperation, the pain. He sent her a wave of soothing emotions, gently coaxing her to lower the walls enough to see. She was reluctant, though, and he tried another tactic, asking her what was it about.  
 _-It's... how... how I learnt to swim. A river._  
 _Reinheit was with you?  
-... yes.  
He threw you in, didn't he?  
-Vorador...  
Let me see, child.  
-I... I can't...  
I have to be sure you aren't a spy and you'll feel better if you just let it out.  
-Your judgement will be harsh.  
Let me decide when to be harsh, will you?_  
Silence. A long pause that stretched for minutes. Then, small and very quiet:  
 _-Yes_.  
It was with gentleness that Vorador breached the walls, slipping past them as Nerissa lowered them. He was immediately surrounded by all she'd felt, all she'd seen, all she'd heard. The memory was powerful, tinged with the colours and scents of childhood -smells and colours that are, when not completely forgotten, incredibly vivid.

 _«Nerissa, my darling girl» her father was saying, smiling. Nerissa studied him from her spot on the carpet, where she was playing with some abandoned arrows. She liked to caress the feathers there, to feel their texture beneath her palm -the palm that was free of those confining wood splints. Her dad had broken her arm just a week before, because Nerissa had been very bad. She'd gone into his rooms while he was in bed with a young beautiful woman. She hadn't understood what had been going on. Maybe her father was cold and the woman was there to warm him up in his bed. Nerissa remembered feeling a pang of jealousy -if her father was cold, she could have warmed him with her hugs. When she'd told her dad, though, he hadn't answered. He'd only said that she'd been very bad and that he had to punish her.  
The pain had been bad. She'd endured it, telling herself that she was doing it for her father. She'd promised herself and him to never be bad again.  
Today her father was smiling, and this brought a smile to Nerissa's face too. She jumped from the carpet, impeded by the heavy splints and annoying bandages keeping them firmly still.  
«Daddy!»  
He hugged her, careful not to touch her broken arm. It still hurt sometimes, if she tried to move it or if she squeezed it between the mattress and her side while sleeping. In that moment, though, all the pain was taken away from her, taken away in her father's arms.  
«I'm going to ride to the river» he said cheerily. «I thought you'd like to come with me, just you and your old man.»  
Nerissa beamed, almost bursting with joy. She tried to throw her little arms around his neck, only succeeding with one.  
«Yes, yes, yes! When are we leaving? I can't wait! Daddy, come on, if you are late all the water will flow away and there'll be none for us when we arrive!»  
He laughed, a deep sound that always made her gleeful, following her out of the fortress and into the stables. The servants and the court looked at her and whispered among themselves, but Nerissa paid them no heed. They chose Autumn, the auburn horse, her favourite, because he was always ready to keep her company when Nerissa was feeling down._  
 _«You little imp, you» her father said playfully, mounting on the horse. The stable boy lifted Nerissa in his arms to hand her to her father, hearing a happy 'Thank you' coming from the child. Nerissa saw the boy smile as they rode away, even though his eyes were worried. Nerissa knew he didn't need to worry. Her little body was nestled in front of her father's, one of his arms hooked securely around her waist. She wouldn't fall. She would never fall, not when she was in her dad's arms.  
The woods were fabulous. It was late summer and the birds were chirping, the bushes loaded with berries. She recognised the Vampire Bites, blood red berries that were as poisonous as snake's venom. Her dad had taught her never to eat them, along with what berries were good to consume. Abraham made Autumn slow down as he bent a little to the side, handing her a handful of raspberries with a smile plastered on his face. She giggled as she ate one, its sweet and somewhat sour taste invading her mouth, the roar of the water becoming louder and louder the farther they rode.  
The river was beautiful when they reached it. The sun was reflected back at them by the blue-green water that flowed unceasingly before them. Nerissa was wriggling out of her father's grasp even before he'd actually placed her on the ground, shrieking in laughter as she ran down to the river bank, her wild raven curls fluttering behind her. She stopped just short of the water, careful not to slip and fall into it: she was still small and couldn't swim.  
Her father came up behind her. He wasn't smiling anymore, but Nerissa was turned and couldn't see it. In his eyes, the light that she'd begun to fear was slowly appearing.  
«It's so beautiful, daddy!» she cried, eyes shining like gems in the sunlight. Abraham smiled too, but not quite as he had before: this smile was more teeth and more feral than before, and he was eyeing Nerissa like a large feline looks at its prey. And what do felines do with their victims?  
They kill them, of course. They eat them.  
But first, they play with them.  
«I never taught you how to swim» he commented as he got closer. «I regret it now.»  
Nerissa looked at him from below. Small as she was, she barely reached his waist with the top of her black-haired head. She was smiling.  
«Why do you, dad? We can always do it next year, when it's warm again. We'll have the excuse to spend some time together again!»  
Her father smiled. He bent, picking her up, her injured arm towards the river.  
«We would, yes. But you know what they say, the younger they are, the faster they learn. Did you know that, girl?»  
His eyes. _His eyes _. Nerissa found_ that _in his eyes.  
She wasn't smiling anymore.  
«No, dad» she said, quietly.  
«No, indeed.»  
He was taking slow steps forward. Nerissa clutched at his shoulder with her good hand, small white teeth worrying her bottom lip. Her eyes were frantically searching his face.  
«Dad?»  
«What do you say to learning to swim _now _, little girl?»  
«No, daddy. No, daddy».  
«And why is that?»  
«It's... it's cold. Please don't teach me how to swim now.»  
«Will you be good? Will you be daddy's little good girl?»  
«Yes. Yes, I promise, I will.»  
Abraham smiled.  
Then his arms shot out and Nerissa didn't know anything but cold, dark, roaring water. She tried to scream, but only bubbles came out of her throat.  
She came back out, spluttering. The cast in which her arm was held was pulling her under. Her clothes clung to her skin, heavy and so very cold. The current was too strong for her to fight, but she was still close to the river bench, and many boulders protruded from the water. She gripped one with all her might, the water screaming, as her wild green eyes sought his, her voice coming out ragged as she held on the rock.  
«Daddy! Daddy! DADDY!»  
«Oh, stop whining» she heard Abraham say. Then she felt a hand on her head.  
For a moment she hoped, before that hand pushed her under.  
She'd never been scared like in that moment.  
She'd never hated her father like in that moment.  
It was kicking or dying.  
She began to kick.  
She learnt how to swim._

A gathering. People dressed in black around a large hole in the ground.  
Vorador's vision was foggy with Nerissa's unshed tears.  
He heard the priest's voice, telling them how God had called an angel to his side that day, and how empty his words sounded in front of the reality that her mother was dead.

«What's this, Mary?»  
«It's the proof that angels exist. Do you see the ways this feather catches the light? How its white colour becomes gold and red and purple?»  
«Do they really have feathers this long?»  
«Of course, dear. Their wings are very big, they have to lift their tall graceful bodies...»  
«Mary?»  
«Yes?»  
«Do angels love everyone?»  
«Of course, my dear.»  
«So can an angel love a demon?»

Vorador was staring at a young beautiful woman. She had a porcelain visage with perfect lips curled in a sweet smile. Her eyes were the color of a stormy sky, framed by long curls of black hair.  
A white, chubby child's hand came up and grabbed at the dark locks. Vorador heard a giggle and understood that this was the only memory that Nerissa had of her mother.  
«My beautiful child» came the low voice of the woman. «My lovely girl...»  
Then, suddenly, the image became foggy, so much that the woman's face was no longer visible. The vampire only heard her voice, her tone strangely breathless, like that of an old man.  
«Take this, my little one» it said. «This was my mother's mother's crucifix. It bears powerful spells that will protect you. Take it with you, always, so that you may forever be safe beneath her wing.»  
Vorador felt something cold rest on his breast and a soft clipped sound, like a necklace's lock that snapped closed.

When Vorador slipped from her consciousness, Nerissa was staring at him with empty eyes. She wasn't crying, and for some reason that disturbed the vampire. He would have preferred a hysterical woman to this unresponsiveness. _  
_«I have what I came for» he said, voice quiet.  
Nerissa didn't answer. She simply looked in his eyes, waiting the sentence.  
«Your soul is clean like that of a child».  
And it was. Vorador thought he knew what Moebius must have done, for he himself had done so, though only twice in his life. But changing someone's memories was the last bulwark, the terrible finality that no one was allowed to take lightly. To think that Moebius had done so to a mere _child_... a child that he wanted to take the crucifix, to take his eyes, so to speak, a child he wanted to raise like a lamb to the slaughter... to throw her into the vampires' grasp, with only the feeble hope they would just turn her to sustain him, just to see what they did, to hear what they said... just to be powerful, to use his eyes again.  
«Vorador?»  
The green-skinned vampire raised his gaze, looking at her. Nerissa was huddled on the bed, green eyes burning like a cat's in the penumbra as she hid the lower part of her face in her knees. Her voice came out muffled by the fabric, small and cautious.  
«I tried» she whispered. Her voice was weak. «I couldn't save them, but I tried. I swear I never wanted Hernais to die.»  
«You couldn't save them» Vorador said, keeping his voice quiet. «Even if you had succeded in freeing yourself, the only thing you would have gained would have been a sword in your gut. They were condemned, lost to the cruelty Reinheit called justice. Rest your head, young one, and sleep without nightmares.»  
Nerissa only barely registered his bulky form leaving, and the lithe, willowy one of Janos replacing him. She rested her head on his shoulder, feeling as if she'd been emptied of everything. She felt suddenly incredibly tired, cuddling against his side as he wove his fingers in her locks.  
Nerissa drew her arms around his shoulders, sighing.  
«I saw a feather» she murmured. Janos made a rumbling sound in his chest, his lips against her temple.  
«A feather, my dear?» he whispered. She hummed.  
«It looked much like your own. But it was as white as the snow in winter.»  
Janos decided her words were no more than the ramblings of an exhausted woman. Maybe the remainder of a dream.  
«Yes, it was white» she continued, letting her eyes fall closed and her hands brush his wings. «It fell and fell and fell and never stopped.»  
«You should sleep, little one.»  
Nerissa lifted her head, looking at him with weary eyes. It was hard to keep her eyes open, but... his beautiful face. His wonderful eyes. The beating of his heart, strong and alive in his chest, beneath her fingers. All of that was too perfect for her to waste time not looking at him.  
She delicately brushed his lips with hers.  
«Stay, my love» she murmured. «I miss having you in my arms.»  
Nerissa felt him smile against her lips. «Lie down, little one» he said. «I'll be there when you awaken.»  
She hummed again, her mouth curling in a smile, and complied. She sighed contentedly when she felt his strong, warm body against hers.  
«Just one more thing, before we sleep» she sighed. Janos was caressing her hair, massaging her scalp, lulling her to sleep.  
«What is it?»  
«Who is Valstrath Lancaster?»  
But she was asleep before Janos could express his incredulity.

. . .

When she awoke next, fourteen hours had passed and outside it had stopped raining. The sensation of 'too much' still hadn't gone away.  
And, Nerissa realized as she looked at Janos, his eyes closed and breathing even, she was thirsty. Her throat _burned_.  
Nerissa looked at him, his beautiful face, his perfect neck. She could smell his scent from where she lay, that perfume of incense and parchment, smoky and so deliciously liquid, and it was _intoxicating_. It surrounded her, so strong she could taste it in her mouth, and it was making her eyes go wide. How could she have never smelled it so... so _thoroughly_ before? It was all she could think of, his scent and his _neck_. His _throat,_ slender and blue and so _close, vulnerable..._  
She didn't think, acting on instinct as she sank her teeth into the vampire's neck with a growl.  
The copper taste exploded into her mouth -and it tasted _good_.  
Janos jerked awake when she bit down hard on his neck, feeling her teeth break the skin and her lips sucking, taking his blood in. He caught sight of her eyes -pupils dilated, the green of her irises the thinnest circles he'd ever seen in his life. His eyes went wide and he held her by the shoulders, roughly shoving her backwards.  
Only then did the realization of what she was doing kick in. Her eyes went wide in horror as she stared at Janos, at his rapidly-healing wounds, horrified that she'd ever be capable of such a profanity.  
«Janos! I'm sorry- oh gods, I'm _sorry-_ »  
«Did you drink Ezra's blood?» her mate interrupted her, studying her warily. Nerissa shook her head, the taste of his blood still fresh in her mouth -and she couldn't bring herself to _dislike_ it.  
«N-no» she stuttered, eyes wide as she stared in his golden eyes.  
«Not even a drop? Maybe by mistake?»  
Nerissa shook her head, . «No. I swear. Gods, Janos, I'm so sorry... I don't know what came over me, I swear on my life I didn't-»  
«I know.»  
Nerissa stared at him, brows furrowing a little, mouth slightly agape. «What?»  
Janos looked at her intently. «While you slept, I have been able to think about your... peculiar situation, so to speak. Your looks, scent, and everything. This... just confirms the conclusion I had come to.»  
The woman looked back at him, worry settling like an icy beast on her stomach, a beast that clawed and bit and turned her blood to ice. She waited.  
«I think you're of vampiric ancestry» Janos said bluntly.

. . .

Authoress' note:  
Thank you for your sweet reviews and kudos, I loved them all! I'm not entirely satisfied with this chapter, mainly because there's not much going on, but I need to build up with something, don't you think? ;)  
I do not own in any shape or form the characters featured in this story -this also applies to the story's image cover and to the quotes at the beginning of each chapter. I only own my OCs and the story's plot.  
Comments please!  
Have a good day/night and love Legacy of Kain!


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

 _Without music,  
Life is a journey through a desert._

. . .

Nerissa listened with skepticism more and more evident on her face. When Janos was finished, her brows were quirked in an expression of amusement.  
«Alright, you're going crazy, Audron.»  
«I know it sounds impossible at first. I thought so too. But if you just give it another second, you'll see that it only makes sense.»  
«No, it doesn't, and you perfectly know it. My mother was _human_.»  
«I have no doubt she was. For the most part.»  
Nerissa shook her head, disbelieving. Her mother, whom she barely remembered, a descendant of the Ancients? It sounded crazy even in her head.  
«It was uncommon for us to take lovers among humans, Nerissa, but it wasn't something unknown.»  
«And you suppose the child of a human and an Ancient started my ancestry?»  
Janos looked at her in the eyes. «How else could you explain it? Your scent, your looks. The Whisper.»  
The vampire settled more comfortably on the mattress, silently asking her to slip in his arms, but she didn't come.  
 _-Maybe it's best if I stay away from you for now. I don't want to bite you again.  
It was an accident, little one...  
-Yes, and who knows when it will happen again. I won't hurt you._  
Janos sighed, crossing his long legs on the bedding. Nerissa imitated him, teeth worrying her bottom lip.  
«Your body had been nearly emptied of blood and your first reaction was to replenish it by drinking from another's throat. This is not normal for a human, Nerissa, I trust you can see that on your own.»  
She glared at him from behind a curtain of dark locks. «I know. I'm not stupid. But you can't just say all this and expect me to... to just _believe_ I'm half-vampire or something.»  
«If my hypothesis is correct, you just got one drop of vampiric blood in your veins. But one drop is enough, beloved. I've seen similar reactions on humans drunk on vampire blood.»  
Nerissa arched an eyebrow. «Humans can get drunk on vampire blood?»  
«It's like a drug to your race. The strenght of ten men, speed beyond anyone's imagination, sight and hearing improved... it can be a powerful drug indeed.»  
She closed her eyes. She could still taste Janos' blood in her mouth -sweet, with a hint of spices that rendered it almost too delicious to be real. She understood how it could become a drug, like wine to an alcoholic.  
«I don't feel like that» she said aggressively. «I'm not strong, I'm not-»  
«How many humans do you think could survive... that?» Janos asked, resting a hand on his own back and looking at her intently. «Nerissa, beloved, I've seen humans die for far less. More than that, have you ever caught an illness of any kind?»  
Nerissa closed her eyes. She went back in time with her mind.  
 _I never caught a cold_.  
She looked at him with those large, forlorn green eyes. Janos moved, as if to embrace her, but she shuffled back, curling on herself as if wounded. The vampire didn't back away, leaving his hand between them, in the woman's reach. Nerissa didn't take it.  
She could see his feathers in the mirror. Far as she was, she should have been able to just make out their shape. Instead, she saw every little detail, the tiny barbs clinging to each other, the almost imperceptible shades of color. She remembered Vorador's scent, how it had smelled like raw power when she'd taken a breath of it. Janos' voice, so soft, that had sounded as if he were screaming in her ear.  
«Nerissa?» Janos prompted.  
 _Maybe there's something wrong with you_ , that little voice in her head had said once. _Would it be so strange if he already knew and hated you for this? For partially being something he wants to kill?  
_ The Whisper. How fast she always healed afer Abraham's tortures. How her bones hadn't snapped when Ezra had gripped her arm, how fast she could be when she wanted to, even managing to keep up to a whole pack of hunting dogs.  
«Abraham was right» she whispered. «There really _is_ something wrong with me».  
The vampire in front of her frowned, but she didn't see it. She buried her hands in her hair, shutting her eyes, face hidden in her knees.  
There _was_ something wrong. _She_ was wrong.  
Half-human, half-vampire. Belonging to both and belonging to neither. Child of both and of no one.  
A monster.  
She covered her mouth with a hand.  
 _Glad you finally saw it,_ whispered that grim little voice in her head.  
 _Shut up, shut up, shut up...  
I had told you.  
It wasn't my fault!  
But you did it anyway.  
Please...  
_«What am I?» she whispered. «What am I, Janos?»  
The vampire shook his head. «Not _what_ , Nerissa... _who_. You can still be anyone you want, little one. You just have to choose.»  
«My life... my whole life is a _lie_! I'm stuck between two worlds! _I don't belong anywhere!_ »  
 _You can also choose to belong to both_ , Janos said gently. _Not being part of a defined species doesn't cut you off from all the others_.  
«You don't understand» Nerissa stuttered. «I bit you, I... I'm a monster».  
But when she saw the effect those words had on Janos, she instantly wished she could take them back. _  
_«So is this what you see when you look at me?»  
His voice was low, just above a whisper. Her head snapped up, frantic green eyes boring into golden, pained ones.  
«Have you been hiding this from me all this time? That you think of us... of me... as monsters?»  
Oh God. Oh God, God, God.  
 _-No, no, never a monster, Janos please you're not a monster..._  
«Then why do you find being part of my race so horrible?»  
She held back a whimper of despair. His mind remained closed to her, not even daring to touch hers to talk, and it was what hurt the most. Nerissa tried to convey her emotions to him anyway, feeling his conscience touch hers gingerly, as if disgusted by it.  
 _-I don't belong to your race_ , she thought desperately. _I don't belong to the humans, I don't belong to the vampires..._  
 _-I'm alone_.  
Janos shook his head, expression pained. «I thought you were better than this, Nerissa. Remember your reaction when I thought you were an angel? How you rejected labels as if they were the plague? I didn't think you'd react like this when believing you were one of us... I thought you were the one. I thought you _understood_ ».  
She curled up in the farthest corner of the bed, breathing hard, staring at him.  
Understand.  
Yes.  
Nerissa abruptly stood up. The motion caught Janos by surprise and he wasn't quick enough to catch her when she ran past him and out of the door. Barefoot, and dressed only in her white tunic, she bolted down the corridor and flew down the stairs, her raven locks fluttering wildly. She may have heard Janos' voice calling for her, but she didn't look back.  
Later she would remember that moment and feel shame at her foolishness. But at the moment running seemed a good idea, a way to escape all her worries. Her heart pounded in her chest, a heart that was in the middle of two worlds, and her traitorous blood rushed in her temples, buzzing on and on and on.  
She ran through the main hall, catching the startled gazes of a few vampires who were walking there, and out of Vorador's mansion. Somewhere in the distance she could hear shouting, and feel the stones first and then the wet earth beneath her bare feet. She breathed in the forest air, ignoring the sting of the thorns that scratched her.  
She stopped running only when her legs threatened to fall off her body if she took another step. She was panting, her lungs burned as if she'd breathed in fire, and her legs were sore. She couldn't hear the vampires' voices anywhere and absently wondered how long she'd been running. Only the birds with their chirping answered her.  
That was fine with her.  
She began walking in a random direction, ignoring the pain in her muscles, already weakened by bloodloss. Somewhere deep in her mind Nerissa knew she'd made the worst move she could have ever made -weakened like that, unarmed, almost naked and barefoot, she would fall prey to some wild animal of freeze to death once night fell. She didn't even have water of food with her.  
She didn't care.  
 _Mother_...  
The mother she barely remembered, always told of so fondly by everyone. Beautiful, gentle, sweet Alexandra. Half-vampire without even knowing. And her daughter...  
Nerissa had never hurt like that before. The sensation of _not belonging_ anywhere. Of course, when she'd still lived in Uschtenheim, she hadn't really felt part of the court, but that was somehow different. At least she'd belonged to a _race_.  
But that wasn't the main problem, was it? No. Because she'd seen vampires, lived with one of them, seen others. And they weren't monsters. She wasn't a monster because she was half-vampire, she was a monster because she'd got her friends killed. Because she'd bit her mate and hurt him in a rush of pure animalistic hunger.  
 _Good_ , said the grim little voice, ever present in her head. _A little slow in understanding, but never one not to understand, eh, Nerissa?_  
 _Shut up, please shut up...  
And you know what's funniest? What's funniest is that I think you knew. The darkest corners of your room know you already knew. Why else did you want to bite Abraham when he'd caught you and your precious friends? Friends that weren't all that precious either, seeing how easily you got them killed-  
IT WASN'T MY FAULT!_  
 _Keep telling yourself that_ , cackled the voice. _Keep telling yourself your lie. How much longer before you hurt Janos too? Vorador? Someone else?  
STOP!  
You tasted his blood in your mouth. Janos, who did nothing but help you since the start... bleeding in your mouth.  
_She fell to her knees on the forest ground, holding her head in her hands. That last thought... the thought of hurting her love... it was too much.  
 _Maybe it's for the best_ , she thought, despair etched in every syllable. _I ran away. They don't have to worry about me anymore._  
It hurt. It hurt insanely. More than anything she wanted Janos' arms around her, comforting her, telling her that everything would be alright.  
 _But he doesn't want you_ , the little bastard piped up. _He didn't even want to speak with you_ mentally. _He must be disgusted. Maybe he finally saw what you truly are... a child murderer.  
Vorador told me I couldn't save them!  
He probably doesn't even care enough to try and find a way in which you could.  
_What did it even matter now? _Now_ , of all times, now that she'd just discovered she wasn't human, nor vampire, nor... anything?  
 _Because this is the only thing that will ever matter_ , said the little voice. _This is the sin for which you'll forever try to atone... and there is no possible forgiveness_.  
And it was true. She'd killed them with her foolishness, with her carelessness. She should have-  
Should have what? Left Anaxagoras and Argyros in the dungeons, to be tortured and executed slowly, for a bit of _sport_? Left Janos alone in his ivory tower, never to see him again?  
Either way, innocent people paid the price. Who was to decide what was good and what was not, who had the ability of telling who deserved to die and who was allowed to live?  
She didn't want to be the one deciding. Abraham had taken that ability for himself, and look where it had brought him. A man who was little more than a rabid dog, barking and growling, and who had been killed just like one: swiftly, without too much thought, no one to remember him fondly, only memories that people wanted to erase as soon as possible.  
If the drop of vampire blood in her veins still allowed it, she was to die like any other human being. But if she was to die, she didn't want to be remembered like the woman who chose about the life and death of others.  
 _We will all return to the ashes_.  
She thought of Janos, Vorador, and all the vampires in the mansion. In the back of her mind, she knew they should have already found her by now -after all, she'd been crouching there for some time. Either way, they would be close  
 _(that is if they are searching for you at all)  
(shut up)_  
and she was possessed by a sudden urge to stay away from them. Her conscious thought attributed that to her will of not being found, lest she hurt Janos or others with that uncontrolled hunger she'd displayed earlier. In the back of her mind, though, there was only one desire.  
 _Feed_.  
No one could steal away her prey if she was alone.  
Without debating too much on it, Nerissa got up and again began to wander, plunging more and more into the depths of Termogent Forest. At some point she stopped briefly to rip the hem of her long nightgown and with the thin rope she'd obtained, she tied her hair up.  
She was _hungry_. She didn't remember the last time she'd eaten, but it had been long before her escape and Ezra, and her stomach was soundly protesting at the lack of attention. Despite that discomfort, though, being in the open air of the forest felt _good_.  
She could feel everything. She could _smell_ everything. The scent of the trees, of the soil, of the birds' feathers, of the wind, that brought with it a scent.  
A liquid, hot, _edible_ scent.  
Without even noticing, Nerissa began creeping forward, eyes wide and lips curled back on her white teeth. Her steps became inaudible as she approached the clearing on cat's feet. Her green eyes widened further at what she saw.  
Beneath the dark sky, heavy with clouds, the deer were staring at her with their large, liquid brown eyes. They were standing as still as statues, the only indication that they were alive being the rapid rising and falling of their brown flanks with their breathing. Their eyes showed only the most basic of emotions, and Nerissa was easily able to tell what was there: fear, pure and instinctual fear. She swallowed thickly. Her throat was dry. She was hungry.  
No...  
 _Thirsty_.  
Her mind might have said something at that. Nerissa's body shoved it away. Her mind saw living animals, but to her body, those were food.  
It was a flash, a lightning of gray.  
Nerissa's gaze snapped behind the group of terrified deer, which were too frightened to even try and flee.  
The wolves were staring at her with their large yellow eyes. There were only two and they were large, tall, muscular beasts, beasts who began to growl as soon as they saw her. Nerissa looked at them with some kind of dreamy incredulity, never noticing the growl coming out of her own throat.  
The wolves splitted, each approaching in a different direction. They were trying to circle the group of deer. They were hunting _her_ prey.  
Their predator smell was intoxicating. Better, way better than that of the deer. If the deer's scent had been ecstasy, the wolves' was rapture.  
Before her mind could interfere and annoy her with stupid issues like  
 _(WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU EVEN DOING)_  
trying to make her see reason, Nerissa took a graceful jump forward. The deer were shocked out of their numbing fear and began to flee, the wolves moved as if to chase them and were met with a pair of burning eyes and snarling teeth instead. They attacked, lunging forward on their powerful hind legs, jaws open and howling.  
Nerissa found their movements to be _slow_. It was almost too easy to step aside and grab one by the neck, breaking the bone beneath all that warm flesh. She felt an unexpected pang of disappointment at seeing that it was dead. Dead blood didn't smell as good as living one.  
The other wolf went down almost as easily. Nerissa barely registered its large claws slicing her skin, or the savage bite it delivered to her shoulder. She smiled gently into the fur of its neck and bit down hard.  
Her teeth cut through muscle, fat and tendons as if they weren't even there. The coppery, metallic taste of the wolf's blood invaded her mouth and her mind tried to make her picture it, picture the scene -her body sprawled atop that of a struggling, dying animal, teeth sunk into its neck, a thin rivulet of blood escaping from the corner of her lips. This time Nerissa's body didn't just shove it, it slapped its mind away and continued to feed, feeling the rich but somewhat bitter blood flood her mouth and down her throat. Energy rushed through her and she gripped at the wolf harder, her fingers turning to grasping claws, and drank. She drank until the flow began to drip away, leaving her with nothing but a lifeless, cooling carcass.  
Nerissa shoved it away in disgust, hastily wiping her lips clean on the sleeve of her tunic. She looked over at the body of the other wolf, the one whose neck she'd broken, longing for its blood but knowing it would be cold and lifeless just as the wolf she'd just drained.  
The wolf she'd drained.  
She had... had...  
What on Nosgoth had she done?!  
Nerissa stared in shock at the bodies of the wolves. She'd drank a wolf's blood. She'd drank an animal's blood. She'd- she had- what the actual _fuck_ -  
 _What the hell is wrong with me?!  
_ She recoiled from the carcasses of her victims, eyes widening in pure horror. First Janos, then this. What had Ezra done to her? What had she done to turn Nerissa into the blood-crazed animal she was now?  
 _She did nothing,_ whispered the grim little voice. _It's in your blood, sugarcube. It's something that has always been in your blood_.  
«No» she croaked. «No...»  
 _How much time is left before it's a child laid like that, lifeless and cold and still, drained until they died?  
_ «NO!»  
Janos. Janos could help. He would tell her what to do, how to control this... this thing inside of her. He would-  
 _No, sugarcube. He didn't even meet your mind back in the mansion. Mansion that, as I recall, you fled from, and you don't know how many hours have passed. Because you know it's been hours, don't you? Hours alone in the forest, killing wolves because you're the darkest creature tonight_.  
 _SHUT UP!_  
Nerissa recoiled from the bodies until her back hit the trunk of a tree. She stopped there, a hand clamped down on her mouth, breathing ragged, trying to control her panic.  
 _(do you feel it, child?)  
(the blood in your veins)  
(SCREAMING)_  
Nerissa's head snapped up. Someone had talked. Someone was  
 _(grinning, with lips that were too dark, from a face whose skin was too blue. his eyes were red, like bloody bubbles in a skull's empty eyesockets, his hair was white. his_ feathers _were white. in his high cheekbones, in the arch of his lips, in the shape of his eyes, she saw her own visage looking from a long since dead vampire's face.)_  
approaching, on light, fast feet. She heard voices, the snapping of twigs, and then a familiar voice crying out to her.  
«What the hell do you think you're doing, woman?»  
Nerissa's voice was just above a whisper. «Anaxagoras...»  
The dark-haired vampire nodded, approaching her huddled form. «Are you hurt?»  
«No. They're just scratches.».  
«You're covered in blood.»  
«It's mostly theirs.»  
The vampire looked over at the bodies of the wolves. He hid his surprise well, instead offering her a hand to help her get to her feet. He then took off his cloak and offered it to her.  
«Thank you, I'm not cold.»  
«You should take it anyway. That tunic is very thin.»  
Nerissa's jaw tightened. When he offered it again, she took his cloak and pulled it around her shoulders.  
«Thank you. How long was I... gone?» she asked hesitantly. Anaxagoras looked at her, lips thin and jaw tight.  
«It was morning when you fled, woman. It's evening now.»  
Her eyes widened and her head snapped up, looking at the sky. It was, indeed, dark.  
«God» she whispered.  
«Yes.»  
She looked at him. Anaxagoras' visage betrayed no emotion, but his eyes were full of rage.  
«So much for not being like other humans» he spat bitterly. «You had us all shocked, you had a searching party sent in the forest to retrieve you. Lives that you put in danger with your reckless actions, stupid child. If Argyros comes back to the mansion with so much as a scratch on him, I swear I'll break your legs.»  
Nerissa hung her head, cheeks hot with shame. «I'm sorry» she said weakly. «I did not mean... I didn't even think you'd bother with... I'm sorry».  
Anaxagoras' expression did not change. He simply began walking back to where he came from, the woman following not far behind.  
«Lord Audron was worried sick» he said eventually. «He wanted to come and search for you, but we thought that if you were to return on your own, you would have been more at ease if you were to find someone you trusted. And safer. Our Sire Vorador is waiting for you too.»  
Nerissa said nothing.  
«It's not by fleeing that you'll solve your problems, Nerissa. You should have remained. You should have fought as you fought to free us from the dungeons.»  
The woman looked up, her eyes meeting nothing but the vampire's nape. He was right. She shouldn't have fled like a coward.  
«You're right» she murmured. «I'm sorry.»  
«And that's why I haven't beat you up a little to make you see sense.»  
They walked in silence for a while. Nerissa studied him from the position she was in, feeling a gradual curiosity begin to swell.  
«How did you end up in the Sarafan's clutches?» she asked eventually. «You don't look like the type to let himself be spotted as he hunts...»  
Anaxagoras sighed. «No, indeed I am not. But I am... _passionate_.»  
Nerissa arched an eyebrow.  
«And I... well... my tastes are not very... they're... _unusual_. Condemned by humans.»  
«But not by vampires.»  
«No. Not by vampires. When you can very well expect to live forever, there are some rules that matter much more and some that matter much less... and the gender of your mate is one of the rules that matter less.»  
Nerissa nodded, beginning to understand. «Argyros?»  
«Argyros. The Sarafan saw us, or heard us, I don't really know. Their first idea was to merely have us _flogged for our sins_... that's what they said. Then they saw what they actually had caught.»  
«I'm sorry you had to go through that. For love, none the less.»  
Anaxagoras didn't answer. There was nothing to say.  
«You killed those wolves. With your bare hands.»  
Nerissa sighed. She thought they'd come to that subject.  
«Yes.»  
«How?»  
«I don't know.»  
 _That voice. And that face... that face..._  
«I don't believe you.»  
«It's not like I vowed to always be truthful with you.»  
Anaxagoras smiled a little. «No. You haven't. But I thought thruth was a thing between friends.»  
Nerissa arched an eyebrow. «Do you consider me a friend?»  
«You saved my life and my mate's. It is something friends do, I heard.»  
The woman smiled a little. «Or I am just someone who needed something at the time.»  
«I'm feeling optimistic today.»  
Nerissa let out a quiet laugh, following him through the forest as the sky became darker and darker.  
«Did you drain them? The wolves?» Anaxagoras asked quietly.  
Nerissa's laugh died in her throat. She fell silent, biting her lip.  
«I did» she said eventually, with a trace of sickly fear in her voice. «I just... I don't know what came over me. One moment I was there, staring at them, and the other I was drinking their blood as if it was the only thing that kept me alive. I...»  
Anaxagoras turned to glance at her, finding her eyes -which were wide, feverish, desperately searching for the reason why.  
«I'm scared of myself, Anaxagoras» she whispered. «I don't know what I am anymore».  
The vampire said nothing for a long while, his pace slowing until he stopped walking altogether. His gaze was hard, firm, and searched for something in her eyes.  
«So you're scared of hurting others...» he mused. «Do you think Lord Audron was unaffected by you taking your leave?»  
«... I... I-I don't-»  
«He cares for you, Nerissa. Even a blind man could see that. Do you think it didn't hurt when you ran away?»  
Nerissa just stared at him with pain in her emerald eyes. She wanted to believe him, but at the same time, what could he know? What _did_ he know?  
«Come home with us» Anaxagoras whispered. «Ask him those questions that float in your eyes, but never doubt of his love for you.»  
Nerissa set her jaw. The perspective of meeting Janos again was  
 _(wonderful)  
(terrifying)_  
making contrasting emotions roar to life in her head. In the end, though, she decided to follow Anaxagoras back: after all, what choice did she have?  
 _I need to understand. Why I drank those wolves' blood, why I keep having visions of the same white feathers over and over... and I surely can't hope to stay in the forest any longer. Even if I managed to get out of here without getting lost, I'd have nowhere to go_.  
With a sigh, Nerissa began walking back with Anaxagoras, pulling his mantle tighter around herself.

. . .

Authoress' note:  
Forgive me for the delay with publishing this chapter, school was just CHAOS and then my computer broke down and I had to have it fixed :( I hope this little thing will make it up to you, even if it's not one of my best chapters...  
So.  
You guys. YOU GUYS. I would have never expected so many people to like this story so much, and your reviews and PMs made me absolutely happy! In just a few days I got four more followers and I swear, if I could I'd hug each one of you for all you're worth :) thank you so much for the favs and reviews, you're all fantastic people :-*  
I do not own in any shape or form the characters featured in this story -this also applies to the story's image cover and to the quotes at the beginning of each chapter. I only own my OCs and the story's plot.  
Comments please!  
Have a good day/night and love Legacy of Kain!


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

 _Behind every favorite song  
There is an untold story_  
. . .

The return to the mansion was easier than Nerissa thought it would be. Of course there were vampires looking suspiciously at her, and more than a few of them were watching her with open hostility, but at least Vorador was amused instead of angry and Janos wasn't showing any disgust on his face when he saw her. Behind a few tall and menacing vampires, Nerissa saw Argyros' fair hair and thanked the heavens for letting him get home safe.  
The winged vampire she'd come to call her lover looked extremely relieved when he saw her. Janos didn't comment on her ragged appearance, nor on the dark green mantle wrapped around her shoulders. Nerissa stepped up to him, longing to embrace him but hesitant about doing so. She compromised by holding up a sheepish hand, and was flooded with warmth when Janos took it in his azure one.  
«I'm sorry» she whispered, eyes downcast. «I was a fool».  
«Yes, you were, child» Vorador said, his eyes hard.  
«Honestly, you are the most unpredictable human I ever had to deal with. One moment you laugh with us, the next you sit still and silent as if someone had locked your mouth shut, the next still you run as if you have Death on your heels» Janos commented rather dryly. He was frustrated, and though it wasn't showing on his face, this umpteenth attempt (seemingly) at ending her own life had left him angered. Coupled with the irritation and bitterness of the morning, he really wasn't in the best of moods.  
 _I really wonder whether you're mad sometimes,_ he said, and frowned in confusion when a wave of relief came from her.  
 _-I'm sorry, Janos,_ she answered, and though her voice carried sincere regret, Janos was still wary. He'd told him so even before escaping, just to run away from him a moment later. The chances of losing her again were far too high.  
 _As you should be. Do you have any idea of how scared I was, you foolish child?!  
_ Nerissa said nothing. She should have been angry, maybe, perhaps a little afraid. She wasn't. He felt her guilt, that much was a given, but beneath it there was nothing but relief, relief and incredulity and pure, deep-seated happiness, and Janos wondered once more what could possibly be going on in her head. Hadn't she thought about how absolutely broken he'd be, how broken he had _been_ , when he thought her lost to him forever?  
Not so many months before, he'd told her he would feel many things if she left, that he wouldn't feel just sadness. But he'd also implied he would know why she had done so. That morning, Nerissa had run without a word, her eyes wide and... and _crazed_ , _afraid_ _of_ _something_ , and Janos had been stabbed with the ever-present fear of her finally realizing just with _whom_ she was living with, who she had kissed -God, with whom she had made love. Janos who was a vampire, and still dangerous despite all his efforts. Janos who could crush her skull with his _mind_ if he wanted to.  
 _But she's come back. She knew all that, but she came back_.  
 _I was terrified.  
I don't think I have anything to fear.  
I hope.  
I know.  
Do I?  
Yes.  
-Janos_...  
Her voice echoed in his head, ripping him from his thoughts, and he looked at her. Her beautiful green eyes, suddenly so uncertain. Her pale hand, still encased in his, still _there_ , soft and cool and so very real, her fingers curled around his palm.  
 _-I'm so sorry, love. When I was in the woods I couldn't stop thinking about you -all I wanted was to come back into your arms-  
Then why didn't you?  
_ A deep sadness settled then in Nerissa's eyes, darkening them, making them more liquid. Sadness and, Janos realized, fear.  
 _-Because everytime I wished for it, I thought about the bite. I've bitten you out of... of animalistic hunger, and I didn't know if it would happen again, I didn't know if it was dangerous, or how much it was, and I didn't want to risk doing that again. Then, when that thing with the wolves happened-  
_ «Wolves?» Janos asked out loud. His brows were quirked in a frown.  
Nerissa closed her eyes. _-Yes._  
«What happened?»  
Nerissa began telling him with words, then, gradually, they switched to memories. The images began to flow freely behind her eyes as they walked back into the mansion, deaf to the orders Vorador barked to his fledglings, blind to the strange looks they got from the other vampires. Janos' frown deepened when she told him of the vision of the grinning vampire.  
«White hair?» he repeated lowly.  
Nerissa nodded, still somewhat stiff. «And white feathers. I think he had wings like you. But his were white.»  
Janos turned towards her, and her eyes were frustrated.  
«Why do I keep seeing white feathers? Do you know who this vampire is?»  
Or better still, _was_. Because he was dead. Nerissa _knew_ he was dead.  
 _... yes.  
_ Janos didn't say more and Nerissa didn't press him. She knew he would tell when he was ready to do so. And right now he was still angry, and rightly so. He needed a little time to cool down.  
Once in the mansion, Janos headed for the library, searching for solitude, while Nerissa was left in the main hall with Vorador. The ancient vampire looked down at her, deciding she was in need of a bath if she was to come any close to his expensive robes.  
He ordered a couple fledglings to show the woman her rooms, and she followed them quietly, her gaze still fixed on the doors Janos had closed behind himself. Silently, painfully, she Whispered.  
 _-I'm sorry_...

. . .

He'd found it. He didn't think Vorador would still have it after all that time, but here it was, the pages yellowed and worn out by the years that had washed upon it, but it was still intact, with its black leather cover and silvery engravings.  
 _'Lullaby for Broken Dreams'_.  
Valstrath Lancaster's diary. After all the times he'd read it, Janos was still unsure as to why his mentor had titled it so.  
He had no doubts about the identity of the vampire seen by Nerissa. Only Valstrath had had such dark blue skin, white hair and feathers. He hadn't always been like that, of course. When his race hadn't yet been cursed, he'd had the palest skin an Ancient could have, almost paper white in its sheer wanness. His hair had been platinum blonde, long locks reaching halfway down his back, and though his vision had been already greatly impaired by albinism, he always used to wear a black piece of cloth over his eyes, for the sunlight would have irritated them even further. He'd been a close friend of his father's and Janos remembered asking him to take the blindfold off once, when he'd still been a child. He remembered the quirk of his pale, pale lips as he'd smiled, and then his hands had reached backwards and had untied the cloth. Janos recalled the sound of his own gasp as his eyes were revealed -white eyelashes and red pupils like a drop of blood in the centre of pink irises.  
The Ancients called him Valstrath the White, the Pure, sometimes the Unbiased. They said that he wore the piece of cloth over his eyes so that he couldn't see who was speaking to him, and so he could judge matters without being partial towards one or the other. It had been a lucky little detail for Janos, that particular saying, when Valstrath had silvertongued him out of trouble after a particularly unfortunate run-in with the Hylden, and taken him, literally, under his wing.  
And now here it was, _'Lullaby for Broken Dreams'_ , again. It had been such a painful, wonderful surprise when he'd found out Valstrath had left it to him, after his  
 _(murder)_  
death.  
He opened it with care, reading the first words with a sense of affection, fondness and deep-rooted sadness. His mentor lived again in those pages, greeting him with his rough, scratchy and yet soft voice. Just before the first page there was a folded piece of paper, something that wasn't part of the book.

 _November, 27_

 _When you'll be reading these pages, in all probability I'll be dead as a doornail.  
It's sad, really. And curious. That after all we did, the Hylden still managed to get under our skin. Into our very blood.  
It's snowing outside.  
No children are playing with the snow.  
It burns our skin now.  
I'm sorry, Janos. Sorry for having failed you and your companions. Sorry for having asked _that _of you, that which was only mercy in my eyes and was horrid cruelty in yours. Sorry for telling you this through lifeless paper, instead of manning up and telling you with my voice.  
But there's little point, isn't it? Not when my voice is as dead as this sheet of paper.  
Enough crying over myself. What's done's done, isn't that what you're always repeating? Such sass, even when Mahal and the others were _so _inclined to chop your hands off after that stupid business with Anani. I'll never know how you do it. I was laughing my head off that night, when I brought you home.  
I'm leaving you this diary, Janos, with the hope you'll be able to make use of it when the time comes. Or maybe with the hope you'll be able to do what I wasn't and burn it. I don't know, and by the time you'll read these lines, I will be way past caring. I wonder what you'll think about the title. It sounds dramatic, doesn't it? But humour me this time. The stupid manias of an old pigeon. Wasn't that the nickname you gave me, when you were speaking with your friends? Always so cheeky, way too witty for your own good.  
And again, I'm sorry. I hope one day you'll be able to forgive me. If not, of comprehending.  
No. Not that. Not comprehending. Wouldn't that mean that you'd feel exactly like me? No comprehension, then.  
I can't come up with another word.  
Maybe you can, in my place?  
If you do, please write it in this paper. I don't know why, but I like the idea. It sounds nice -at least in my head.  
I've loved you like a son, Janos Audron. You made this old pigeon so proud. You made me see and touch with my own hand that I had done something good with my life.  
I'll miss you.  
All my love,_

 _Valstrath Lancaster_

The note ended like that, brief and concise and so very intense. It never failed to bring a little smile to Janos' lips, as sad as it was to remember who Valstrath had been -his warm presence, so bright and always with that smug, infuriating smile on his lips- and the dark, white-winged ghost he'd become in the last days of his life, his red eyes too bright in their quiet, feverish desperation.  
Janos didn't have the time to read each entry, instead he looked for those that he most needed, because his suspicion could only be confirmed by Valstrath's daughter. His mentor had taken a human woman as his bride, and their child had been what Nerissa was now: a halfblood, someone that didn't belong to either race. True, his kind hadn't yet been cursed -and so they hadn't needed blood to survive, nor had they lost control over themselves- but their offspring would still be neither human, nor vampiric.  
He turned the pages with careful haste, searching, flying through years and years of the life of the wisest vampire he'd ever known, until he finally found what he was looking for.  
What he read left him shocked, and more and more convinced of what he, deep down, already knew. He spent the remaining of the afternoon trying to track down every member of Valstrath's family, slowly rebuilding his genealogy. It was a tiring, frustrating work to do, and though he knew Vorador would have been grudgingly alright with helping, Janos felt the need to be alone for a while.  
He thought about another word for 'comprehending'.

. . .

 _January, 12_

 _It has stopped snowing. I believe that if I were to go outside, clad in nothing but my own wings, I would disappear in the whiteness of it all. It wouldn't be so bad, disappearing. The light is dim, perfect for my eyes, and I would be able to get away from all this blood, all this death, all these damned_ Hylden _that have plagued my life. Any day, if you had asked me, I would have gladly done so.  
That was until fourteen hours ago.  
I had thought Iraszeb_ _é_ _t to be the fairest creature in Nosgoth. I was wrong.  
Danae.  
My daughter.  
She feels so tiny in my arms, her skin so soft against my scarred, calloused hands. Her hair is silky beneath my fingers -I touched it so gingerly, children's heads are so very delicate- and my wonderful wife tells me she's got the same coppery curls as her. Her eyes are large, I could feel the soft expanse of her lids as she slept, and I was so afraid I'd break her, as if my beautiful little Danae was made of glass. Those eyes are golden, like my parent's. They also tell me that her skin is fair, but does not possess my incapacitating pallor. I thank God of that. It's not a problem to me, the impossibility of going outside in the sun, but I would have loathed for my daughter to suffer the same fate. Instead, I'll get to hear her laughter as she runs in the grass with other children, as she plays with snow, as she feels the wind on her face.  
Something, however, she has gained from me.  
Her wings are wonderfully silky beneath my palm. They are so tiny, and so _fluffy _, I had forgotten how it felt like to caress baby pinions. They're covered in that soft down of children, and everytime I stroke it, she giggles.  
It's the most beautiful sound I ever heard in my life.  
Also, I had not expected the strange sensation that comes with fatherhood. It has begun from the first instant I had Danae in my arms. The sensation that _she's always been there _, she was a part of my life since forever -and I suddenly couldn't really recall my life without her.  
It's a thrilling feeling._

Yes, Janos concluded as he finished the entry. Danae, Valstrath's daughter, was a halfblood. He knew she'd had two children when she'd married, with another vampire named Eltanin.  
After that, though, Valstrath's diary became more and more confused, more and more panicked, as the Blood Curse tore his race apart. Janos knew that Danae and her children had run away from the city where they lived, away from her husband, after he'd almost killed her in his crazed fury. Eltanin had managed to stop in time, though, and beg her to run and save the children and herself.  
After that episode, Danae's children's path became blurry. Janos knew that one of them, Illidan, had found his mate in a vampire boy named Ycarus, so he was sure that Valstrath's line couldn't possibly have progressed from him. The other child, Cassiel, had married a human woman.  
He searched for long hours, until, in an ancient book from Nachtholm, he came across a name he was familiar with, one of Valstrath's descendants: he was sure of that because, among other things, the book remarked the woman's incredibly pale skin, sensitive red eyes, and platinum hair.  
Elinor Maedhros. Married with Duncan Moonfall, they had a daughter.  
Alexandra Moonfall, Nerissa's mother.  
Janos put the book down, very gently, as he looked at the ceiling with almost unbelieving eyes.  
The woman he called mate, a halfblood of his mentor's ancestry.  
«You've been at it for hours, Janos».  
Vorador's voice didn't really startle him, he'd sensed his fledgling's presence long ago, but still, he hadn't expected him to speak.  
«You should take a break» Vorador continued, approaching on steps that echoed of his boots' sound. «Found anything?»  
«I did, actually» he answered, getting up and stretching his stiff wings. He grimaced at the slight pain, deciding he'd go for a flight later.  
«So?» Vorador prompted, and Janos found his hand suddenly occupied with a goblet full of blood. He brought it to his lips, taking a sip with gratitude.  
«Thank you» he said lowly. «I found out why she Whispers. Why she smells like a vampire.»  
Vorador arched an eyebrow. «I won't deny that it's a rather remarkable aspect of your human, but don't you think you could have found out in other ways? Faster ones?»  
«I won't cause her unnecessary pain, Vorador.»  
«Of course you won't.»  
They remained in silence for a while, Janos quietly drinking his blood and Vorador simply gazing at the books scattered on the table, a strange look in his eyes.  
«So she's a... descendant of your kind?» he asked quietly.  
Janos paused before finally answering. «Yes. She's one of Valstrath's get.»  
«Ah, the old bastard. He used to make me want to crush his blind skull against a wall.»  
Janos laughed, the sound musical and carefree echoing in the cavernous library. «Yes, he had that effect on many» he said fondly.  
«How?»  
Janos didn't need to be explained to what he was referring. «Valstrath's daughter, and grandchildren, kept his bloodline alive. And it... it survives in Nerissa. In her veins.»  
Vorador mused on that information for a long while. «It's incredible» he said at last. «That a bloodline that's thousands of years old could still survive. And that you could meet the last of its member.»  
«Yes. Fate really loves to toy with us» Janos murmured.  
Vorador nodded in agreement, closing his eyes briefly. With a massive, elegant clawed hand he reached for the diary, turning it around in his palms.  
«It wasn't your fault, you know» he said quietly. Mindlessly, minutely toying with the goblet in his hands, Janos allowed himself a mirthless laugh.  
«It was my knife that sliced his throat, Vorador» he said, bitter and still broken by the memory. «It was my hand that painted his white wings red.»  
«Janos, he didn't want to go on living. What kind of life would it have been with his wings shattered?» his fledgling demanded, setting the diary down. «It may sound cruel -especially coming from one such as me- but some deaths are _truly_ mercy killings.»  
Janos shook his head, defeated. Vorador meant well, he knew, but he hadn't been _there_. He hadn't been the one to hold Valstrath in his dying moments, seeing the light vanish from his red eyes and, for a second, see the flash of the desire to live in those unseeing pupils. He hand't been the one to see white hair and feathers become red, drenched in blood, and hadn't felt the grip of those dark hands on his arm. Janos knew that if he hadn't killed Valstrath, the near-blind vampire would have found someone else to do the job. He knew it had really been a mercy to take his life, but somehow that knowledge made it worse: because it showed with unspeakable violence that the personality which he'd grown to admire, respect and love could fall into such depths of desperation. That the same Valstrath who'd raised him from hotheaded boy to wiser man could be reduced to a hopeless creature with shattered wings.  
It had been almost two thousand years, and still his hands felt tainted with the blood of his mentor.  
«Should I fetch your halfling?» Vorador asked quietly. Janos sighed.  
«Thank you, my son, but no. I shall go to her. We need to... sort things out.»  
«I don't doubt you need to.»  
Vorador silently stepped aside as Janos walked past him and out of the library's doors, his long, massive primaries almost brushing the floor. He again had time to mentally gape at the wonder that were Janos' wings -the soft, silky texture of his feathers, their raven black colour, the powerful muscles and bones that sustained them. The little human was lucky indeed, to have such wings beneath her fingers every night. To be able to call one such as Janos her mate.  
Vorador had been mildly angered at her escape, but he hadn't really been surprised. He'd seen that reaction a thousand times before. It was what humans did -when everything became _too much_ , they ran. He didn't justify her actions, for they had made his Sire suffer needlessly, but he understood them: because as much as she could be Valstrath Lancaster's long lost progeny, she was still mostly, _only_ , human. Human she was, and human was her strenght. It was as easy to break their bones as it was to break their minds. He'd turned his fair share of fledglings in his long, long life, and he knew what it meant to suddenly wake up to find oneself belonging to another race entirely. But the fledglings he'd turned had all been willing -it would do him no good to bestow the Dark Gift on someone who would just turn against him. Their turning had been their choice. Nerissa hadn't had that. She just found out that she wasn't, never had been, nor one nor the other.  
No, he didn't justify her actions, but he could comprehend them, to a certain degree. As would his Sire, once the hurt and anger would pass. There was the chance that their relationship would even come out stronger than before.  
His Sire. Janos. The father of all vampires.  
A human as his companion.  
He shook his head, sighing.  
Sometimes he really couldn't understand his father.

. . .

Nerissa plucked slowly at the harp's strings.  
She'd sworn not to touch, yes, yes, yes to all that. But it was just too tempting. It stood there, nestled in the space between the wardrobe and the wall, and to her it was like like a glittering ball to a cat. She couldn't help it.  
It wasn't like it was going to shatter into smithereens in her hands anyway.  
 _No. It's probably just older an instrument than you are, probably older than your whole family's years together, and you're just-  
Making it sing again. Just to hear its voice. I'm making it sing again.  
_She'd thought that for that day she was done for, that her sadness and anger at herself had polluted the well of notes she had always diven into when she was distressed, rendering it murky and slimy. But the truth was that she'd always been able to pull a song from a harp, be it with rain or sun or happiness or despair, and today was no different. The melody was sad and slow, but it was there, alive, filling the air and her lungs with its melancholic beauty.  
Despite the many years of disuse -proof was the thick layer of dust it was covered with-, the harp's music was stil as perfect as ever. It had probably known many hands. Hands that had undoubtedly been much more experienced than hers, hands that had probably been immortal. Nerissa thought about Janos' hands, so elegant and sinuous and so finely shaped. It was easy for her to picture such hands upon an instrument, but she'd also felt the callouses of his fingers on her skin. Those hands, as delicate as they were, were those of a warrior. And yet only those hands had been able to make her soul sing.  
It was a beautiful thought, that music could be created with hands that had known war. It filled her with hope.  
Just as she was beginning a new song, a sft knock came from the door. Her hands stilled on the harp's strings and she gave a soft sigh, exhaing slowly.  
«Please, enter» she sad quietly, knowing that whoever was behind that door would have heard anyway. The heavy wooden frame opened with a quiet sliding sound, a sigh floating on the stone floor. She caught a glimpse of the two vampires mounting guard in front of her room and boiling anger coiled in her gut before she saw Janos' soft face. Nerissa knew he didn't deserve it, that he was even, to a certain degree, right in wanting her watched, but that didn't stop her from being enraged.  
Rage made her spiteful, she knew. She also knew that he did _not_. Deserve. It.  
«Am I a prisoner now, needing guards in front of my door?» she spat, stomach clenching when she saw Janos grimace.  
«Nerissa...»  
«I thought I'd made myself clear. I thought you'd accepted it» she snarled. «I'm not your pet, Janos Audron, as much as Vorador and his vampires think otherwise.»  
 _-Shut up. Please, please, shut up. He did nothing to deserve this.  
-He caged me!  
-Janos just wants to protect you.  
-He's like Abraham. They're all like Abraham_.  
No. No, no, no, no. She couldn't compare Janos to that monster of a man. Janos wasn't like that. He was sweet, gentle, loving. He was-  
 _-Yes_ , spat the grim little voice that was ever present in her head. _He cares to the point of keeping you on a leash like an animal.  
-No! Shut up!  
-Isn't this how you recognise the truth, sugarcube? By the fact that it always, always hurts?_  
Nerissa closed her eyes. All that had flown through her mind in less than five seconds and when she opened them again, Janos was still there, expression both shocked and pained. When he spoke, his voie was quiet, and she regretted speaking so harshly, letting her anger overwhelm her.  
«Nerissa... beloved...»  
Janos sighed, coming to sit on the bed. Nerissa followed his movement with an unreadable expression. The Ancient waited, as if expecting her to speak, but Nerissa kept quiet. After what felt like an eternity to the vampire, he found his voice again.  
«I'm not trying to cage you» he whispered. He never would. He could not. How could Nerissa thisn that of him? She was looking at him as if... as if...  
As if he were Abraham Renheit.  
«It's only for your safety» he continued, hoping to break the impassible, stony mask she was giving him.  
«My safety.»  
Her voice was flat, no emotion whatsoever touching it. T was better like that to her. At least she wasn't spitting her spiteand anger on him anymore.  
Janos thought it was worse than her previous venom.  
«I can take care of myself» she said, in that same emotionless tone of voice.  
Janos' wings bristled. His lips thinned to a dark blue line.  
«Just like before, when you ran into the woods with nothing but a nightgown on your body?» he asked sharply. He saw her eyes narrow.  
«I came back» she said, dangerously calm. « _Unscathed_ ».  
«You had just faced two wolves in he middle of the day» Janos replied, sedate. «You could have-»  
«BUT I DIDN'T!» she screamed, the sound of her voice horribly shrill. «You act as if I was a child who needed a scolding! _You act as if I was dead for real!_ »  
She rose sharply from the chair, hands clenching into fists at her side, eyes mad with anger. «I'm still here» she growled. «I'm still here, Janos».  
«And you have no idea how glad I am for it» the vampire whispered, and suddenly, not knowing how, he found himself with an armful of Nerissa, her hands clenched in his tunic, his own fingers buried deep in all that wealth of hair. Her lips burned on his, soft and cool and needing to _feel_ him. Her arms rose in front of his shoulders, her hands cupping his face, and he held her tight, her body moulding into his.  
«I'm sorry» she gasped against his lips. «I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-»  
«It's okay-»  
«I thought you'd be disgusted-»  
«No...»  
Nerissa clutched him closer, eyes stinging, a lump in her throat. She shut her eyes tightly, her hands gripping his tunic fiercely.  
 _She'd missed him so much._  
«Forgive me» she whispered. «I didn't mean to hurt you, I never wanted to break your trust-»  
 _-I was just so scared, Janos I'm so sorry-_  
«Sshhh, sshhh, my love, Nerissa, calm down» Janos murmured, keeping her close. Nerissa was holding him tightly, as if wanting to crawl right into him, as if she couldn't get close enough.  
 _-I was scared, I never wanted to hurt you and I'd bitten you like a savage beast...  
No, my love, don't. Don't call yourself that. It was instinct. It was normal, Nerissa. You're one of us, in more ways than one._  
The woman leaned back a little, looking at him with wide open eyes.  
«Did... did you find something?»  
Janos nodded, embracing her, her chest pressed to his on the bed. They had ended up lying face to face, heads on the burgundy pillows, Janos' wings hanging slightly from the side of the bed.  
Their eyes locked, shining brightly, gold and green merging together. Fierce _want_ spiked through Janos' veins, fuelled by the time spent apart even before Ezra's attack. He saw matching desire shine in her irises and knew his pupils had blown wide.  
He glanced briefly at the room's door and quickly cast a soundproofing spell, his movements made a little more difficult by Nerissa's decision not to let go of him for even a moment. Her hands were on his chest, fumbling with the tunic's clasps and lacings, while Janos' slid to her shirt's buttons, slowly pulling them from their eyelets. The coolness of her skin met the warmth from his hands, in a delicious play of temperatures that left the vampire breathless.  
Suddenly what he'd discovered seemed of very little importance. He didn't want to wait and, judjing by the impatience with which Nerissa undid his belt, the raven-haired woman didn't either.  
With a joyful grin, Nerissa pushed him back onto the pillows so that she could get on top of him. Janos smiled, hands running up her still-clothed hips and sides, the soft bedding making his rest upon the mattress comfortable despite his massive wings. Nerissa checked on them nonetheless, taking a little time to adjust herself so that she didn't weigh down on him too much.  
«Good?» she asked, voice husky.  
«Good» he whispered, tone heavy with lust.  
Nerissa grinned at him.  
 _I really should be telling you of your heritage...  
-You'll tell me later. Right now I need you to kiss me._  
And Janos would be damned if he didn't do just that.

. . .

Authoress' note:  
Thank you for your wonderful reviews, you always make my day with those kind words 3 AND OF COURSE, MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!  
Alright, this time the note will be a little longer than usual.  
I just realized that on the 27th of this December, it will be one year with The Freedoms Undone. _One whole year_. I never thought I'd make it this far, and if I did it's all thanks to you and your support. You all gave me something to look forward to when I was feeling down, and that is priceless. Thank you so much for supporting me through the first publication of my life and bearing with me. I love you all, lots and lots of hugs 3 3 :))  
I do not own in any shape or form the characters featured in this story -this also applies to the story's image cover and to the quotes at the beginning of each chapter. I only own my OCs and the story's plot.


	20. Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

 _Music is the electrical soil  
In which the spirit lives, thinks, and invents_

. . .

«This is everything I have found» Janos said quietly, nodding towards the bunch of books and parchments neatly piled on the table. They were quite a lot and Nerissa felt a stab of guilt, knowing that Janos had probably spent hours searching for every scrap of information he could find, alone in the library.  
 _Overgrown crow_ , she thought fondly. He may be alone in that ivory tower that was his Aerie, alone and unable to help his dying race, but his _brain_... Nerissa didn't think there was someone as brilliant as Janos Audron in all Nosgoth. Ask and you'll get an answer, indeed.  
She didn't try to reach out and touch the books or the yellowed parchment. They looked frighteningly old and fragile, as if they would crumble to dust with a mere touch. Her rational mind told her that it couldn't be and _please stop being ridiculous_ , but her rational mind was also the one who told her that Hernais was dead... and didn't the little girl come _back_ and come _back_ and come _back_ every night with her darkened nails and living silver eyes?  
Nerissa shook her head. Now it was nor the time nor the place to think of such things. Sometimes the mind manages to escape beautifully from the daily routine.  
 _-You did all this... starting just from a vision and a few descriptions?_  
 _It wasn't so hard, my dear_. His voice was soft. Nerissa recalled with every breath how much she'd missed it. _There weren't many vampires with white wings, after all. Valstrath was the only one I knew_.  
- _What happened to him?_  
Nerissa realized her mistake the moment she saw the light in Janos' eyes dim. The ancient vampire didn't answer.  
She bit her lip, looking at him with her deep green eyes. _You loved him a lot, did you not?_  
 _-He was my mentor when I was a child. I... I don't think there has ever been a vampire I trusted more. He knew everything, Nerissa, everything about me, the good, the bad, the best and the worst. And he didn't judge. Never._  
The young human nodded. Other maidens would have been hurt, perhaps, that he didn't trust them as he'd trusted Valstrath, but Nerissa understood. They'd spent years together, if what she'd guessed was right. She and Janos had only known each other for half a year. It would be natural to still be tentative... to still be careful. There were things she herself hadn't told Janos, memories that still rested uneasily in her mind and that she wasn't yet ready to reveal.  
 _In time. In time.  
-Yes... in time_, Janos murmured, and Nerissa knew he'd understood.  
Their gazes were again drawn to the pile of books. The winged vampire cleared his throat, a little awkwardly.  
«When I began this research, I started from the visions you'd given me» he began. «I knew who that vampire was, because the visage you described me was too peculiar for it to be anyone else's. You see, Valstrath Lancaster was born with as fascinating as it was incapacitating trait, one that left him nearly blind and with skin and wings as white as snow -albinism never proved to stop him or slow him down, instead, he turned what many saw as a weakness in a great strenght. He was able to fight in almost any situation, not needing to _see_ to be able to strike. And he was wise, very wise, so much that my kind called him Valstrath the Unbiased.»  
The fondness was evident in his voice and Nerissa smiled. -He must have been a very fascinating creature.  
He _was_. «In more ways than one. While it wasn't unknown of vampires who chose to tie their life to that of a human, it wasn't something done often. Valstrath, instead, married a human woman whose name was Iraszebét, and they had a daughter they named Danae.»  
He sighed. «I won't bore you with all the details, but know that Danae's progeny was forced to run away from their home, Ravernia, when the Blood Curse made us all go mad. Danae's husband, in his desperate hunger, almost killed his own wife and sons. The woman was, anyway, able to escape and while we lose track of her at this point of her life, we can still find the traces of her two children, Illidan and Cassiel. Only the second born had children of his own, and through them Valstrath's bloodline trickles down throughout the centuries, surviving in almost a miraculous fashion. It leads to the Nachtholm of several decades ago, when the Count that later became the city's governor married a woman called Elinor Maedhros.»  
Nerissa froze at the name, because she knew it. It was linked to the old, wrinkly visage of an incredibly sour woman, a vain, foolish creature whose smile Nerissa could not recall -only sneers and, in the last years, gapped grins, her teeth standing out like tombstones in her greyish gums.  
«My grandmother» she supplied.  
Janos nodded at her, in his eyes a solemn light. «Yes. She and her husband were gifted with your mother's birth, and later by yours.»  
As much as she tried, Nerissa couldn't link Valstrath Lancaster's darkly handsome face with her grandmother's. While Valstrath had poured off a lordlike aura even in her visions, that woman had only ever been one to sneer and jest, often in a hurtful way, about the 'little monster in her daughter's home'. Nerissa remembered how hurt she'd been the first time she had done it. Later, she'd simply learned to shrug it off. It was a waste of time, she'd thought, to try and gain the approvation of someone who had no approvation to give whatsoever.  
«I... don't know what to say» she said quietly.  
Actually, Nerissa didn't know how to _feel_. Partly, she was still scared, shocked and somewhat angered at her double nature. On the other hand, she was also strangely relieved, as if a great weight she didn't know she carried had been lifted from her shoulders. She looked into it and it didn't take long before she understood that being half-vampire meant being -at least to an extent- physically closer to Janos, to what he was and what he did. Suddenly her prior escape seemed astonishingly childish. Running had never solved anything and besides, if it meant being closer to Janos, why running from it? Nerissa had often thought -to herself, gods knew what Janos would say to that- that she'd do anything to be close to her vampire. Was she going to take back all those promises and vows at the first obstacle? Which, by the way, wasn't an obstacle at all?  
No. Her escape had been istinct, no more and no less than the bite she'd delivered to Janos' throat. Instinct, like the inevitable attempts at dodging the whip when Abraham tortured her. But _fuck_ , she'd learned to control those instincts. She'd learned to have the whip come down on her just to grab its tip and _pull_. If there was something Abraham had taught her, it was how to control her instincts.  
 _Then do it, you damn fool! Is a tiny revelation enough to sway your resolve? Are you that fragile, woman?!_  
Was she?  
 _No_.  
 _Good. Then face it without feeling as if someone's condemned you to death and hold your head high. It will be a good thing only if you wish it to be. If you let negative feelings pull you down, you're finished. Finished!  
_ Nerissa had fought too hard to be finished off like this. So, where did this leave her? She was a half-vampire. More like a tiny-little-bit-vampiric. That gave her only countless benefits, the Whisper being the greatest of them. And also strenght, quick healing abilities, speed-  
And then it came, all at once, in the way all the truly good ideas come, round and smooth and absolutely convincing in its glittering perfection. Janos and Vorador saw her eyes widen and her mouth drop open, and it would have been a comical sight, hadn't it been for her sudden, deathly pallor.  
A strange, angry smile bloomed on her violaceous lips.  
 _The Whisper. I can't yet fight physical battles to help them -and what remains of the Alétheia- with the Sarafan problem, but..._  
If Moebius had given that pendant to her, watching through it, it meant that his mind had always been in close contact with hers. That was a lifetime ago, almost all her life had been spent with his mind in hers. So, when they'd taken that from him, he would probably feel... different, right?  
 _Just like me,_ she thought suddenly. _It was his mind that which kept me from biting others to heal myself when Abraham tortured me. His human mind 'helped' mine stay more... more mortal. But now my instincts flow freely and that's because he's not here..._  
Oh, but there was something else to consider. Unless Moebius had somehow protected himself from such an eventuality, in all the twenty-five years he'd been in her mind, he would have grown familiar with the feeling of her inside his head. It would be only natural to notice it when something so important went missing. But before he could actually comprehend what that 'missing' feeling meant, Nerissa could use that connection to her advantage. Having spent all those years with her, he wouldn't feel anything out of the ordinary if it was _Nerissa_ , who touched his mind again. And if she could spy from his eyes...  
 _It would be Moebius and the Sarafan's downfall. The vampires would know beforehand everything they planned. They could prepare themselves for ambushes, sieges... anything_.  
It would provide an endless and terrifyingly accurate amount of information. It would lead to another era of the vampires.  
The idea was so astonishingly beautiful that Nerissa felt her insides twist. Her eyes burned and her hands were icy.  
She let out a shaky laugh, bringing one hand to her forehead. Vorador idly wondered if she'd finally gone completely mad.  
Janos, instead, was suddely flooded with an enormous flow of images and scattered thoughts. The Sarafan fortress, Moebius's staff, the crucifix, a hand (old, wrinkly, yellowed like old parchment) holding it-  
He gasped as he realized what Nerissa wanted to show him.  
«Beloved... you are...»  
Janos shook his head, too amazed to express what she was in only one word. Vorador had thought something similar, yes, but it had been a fleeting thought, something that not even the green-skinned vampire had really believed in. Moebius was too skilled a mind-fighter, he would have immediately noticed if Janos or Vorador tried to pry in his mind, but Nerissa... intelligent, unpredictable, _so very inexperienced_ Nerissa...  
 _-It is a very well-constructed idea_ , he said cautiously, _but you forget something fundamental, beloved. You have never been trained to pry in other people's minds, you're not a Mentis Lector, Nerissa...  
_ «I know, I know» Nerissa said urgently, too caught up in her epiphany to really register what Janos had said. «I could be trained by either of you, I bet you both are extraordinary mind-readers.»  
«My Sire is» Vorador said gruffly. «As it is, I prefer hand-to-hand combat -I'm not one for sneaky and subtle mind-thefts. But even if you were to be trained by Janos himself, whelp, it would be years before you are even remotely ready to infiltrate someone's mind, even the least experienced in these matters, without being detected. Moebius is powerful, child. You can't just expect to waltz into his head and think you won't be perceived. He'd strike you dead before you can even draw breath.»  
Years. She'd expected something like that, but to hear it was still shocking.  
 _-But maybe not even that is true_ , Vorador suddenly Whispered to the winged vampire. He was thinking fast, whole towers of possibilities being built and destroyed in the blink of an eye.  
 _You said so yourself, Vorador. She's not trained for something like this.  
-Yes... and this might be the key.  
_ Janos turned to his son, a frown on his handsome face.  
 _-There_ is _the chance that Moebius wouldn't notice her presence if she were to... visit him as she is, so to speak. With a mind as powerful as hers, a training would make it ridiculously strong. And while there's the possibility that Moebius wouldn't detect her mind now, he would surely feel such raw power mulling about his head. If we want to take advantage of this, we must do so_ now.  
Janos Audron was many things. Too merciful, said some, too forgiving, said others. But if there was something he was not, it was a fool.  
He'd thought the exact same thing Vorador had just suggested, only he'd done so much earlier, as soon as they'd found the little gem into the necklace. And he had said nothing because the risk it implied was monstrous. He was not willing to risk his mate's life and mental sanity for information, as vital as it may be. Some -Vorador included, in all probability- would have thought it selfish, stupid, cruel even -after all, Nerissa could save many lives if she stole information from Moebius. But the other side of the coin was something Janos couldn't bear to imagine: if Moebius detected her, he could crush and destroy her with the same easiness Janos took flight. His mind conjured up the image of what would be left  
 _(green eyes as empty as an endless void, hands limply abandoned in her lap, slumped shoulders and incoherent words coming out as yells)  
_ and he shut his eyes. He refused to let that happen, refused it with all of himself.  
«Janos...»  
The ancient vampire wondered at the sheer empathy in Vorador's voice and it was with a lurking sense of guilt that he remembered that his fledgling, too, had brides whom he loved dearly. Vorador knew perfectly well what he was suggesting.  
 _And he'll understand why I cannot allow it,_ he thought sourly, uncharacteristically for him.  
«I... forgive any rough spots, I'm still not familiar with mind-reading» Nerissa murmured. «But what if I 'sent forward' just a fragment of my mind, while setting a shield all around the rest?»  
Janos shook his head. «Your walls would be too weak to resist any attack» he said. «You'd need someone to protect your mind for you, and that is impossible, because because if you tried to send out a filament of thought, the walls of the other would prevent you from doing so.»  
«Isn't there a rapid way to learn to set walls?» Nerissa snapped, rather childishly, she'd think later, but she was frustrated. She expected the answer Janos gave... partly.  
«No. Unless you become a vampire, and that's _not happening_ , Nerissa».  
The woman looked at him, a frown on her face. «I'd always assumed you would turn me, one day or another» she said quietly.  
«Absolutely not. I'm not condemning you to this life» Janos said, in a way that dared anyone to contradict him. Obviously, Vorador did, rolling his eyes.  
«This is not a condemn. This is a gift, and a damn good one.»  
«For you, perhaps. Not for others.»  
«Not for _you_ , you mean. But Nerissa is not you. Let her choose, hm?»  
Janos took a deep breath, jaw set and wings bristling. Those two seemed to compete for the 'Grate On Janos' Nerves As Much As You Can' award, these days.  
«You've always been prone to violence, Vorador» he said coldly, making his fledgling's eyes narrow. «This helped you with the Blood Curse, perhaps. But not everyone finds blood enjoyable.»  
«And I say again» Vorador hissed through gritted teeth, «that she is _not_ you, and may find the transmutation as easy as many others have found it. She is _kein Unschuldsengel_ , as much as you'd like to see her as such.»  
Nerissa shook her head, tired and irritated at their stupid argument.  
«Yeah, yeah, go on, do as if I'm not there, but I'd like to tell you a few things, you idiots. First, Vorador, you're not our marriage counselor nor my psychologist, so _stay the fuck out of it_ , thank you very much, and second, Janos, I'm not a child you need to protect. Deal with it. Have a good day.»  
She stormed out of the library, muttering something both vampires found ridiculously similar to 'males'.

. . .

«I swear, I don't understand why must they be so _dense_ » Nerissa grumbled, chewing on the apple she'd found in the kitchens. Apparently, Vorador had human servants around the house and he wasn't about to let them starve to death.  
Selene hummed. «They're men, dear. You can't expect much intelligence from them.»  
Nerissa grumbled something unintellegible. Chandra chuckled.  
«You'll get used to it, even if you may want to distract yourself at times» she said lightly. «That's why I took my wives. In the end, your man will come around.»  
«I mean, I understand he's worried for my safety...»  
«Obviously» Selene nodded.  
«... but I've been fighting and taking care of myself long before I met him. I've been doing so for the past twenty-two years. He's acting like an old fussing mother.»  
The two vampiresses nodded. «You've been around those two for far too long» Chandra said confidently. «You need a girls' night, babe.»  
«I need to goddamn _prove_ Janos can let me out of his sight for a second without me dying» Nerissa snapped. «Can you help me?»  
The brides raised their gazes, blinking. «Excuse me?»  
«I need to penetrate in Moebius' mind. I need mental walls around the largest part of my conscience. Can you help me?»  
«Darling, that's impossible» Selene said. «If we set mind-walls around your head, when you try to send thoughts out...»  
«Yes, I know, Janos told me before» nerissa said impatiently. »I was talking about sending thoughts out _before_ you set the mind walls, like... like... I don't know, me raising my arms and you wrapping yours around my middle _after._ Can you do that?»  
Selene and Chandra looked at one another with dubious expressions on their faces.  
«Theoretically, it is possible» Selene said slowly. «But... well... I don't know...»  
«Please» Nerissa begged. «I need to do this, Selene, I-»  
«I can't risk your life just to appease a wish you have, Nerissa» Selene said sternly. «I like my head where it belongs, on my shoulders.»  
«It's not a childish whim. Think about all the information we could gain!»  
«Yes, and if something goes wrong, Janos tears us limb for limb» Chandra said darkly.  
«He's not that cruel. And it'd be my fault alone, so...»  
«You haven't seen how he was wih Ezra, I'm afraid.»  
«And I won't see what happens with you, on, it'll be alright -I'll be careful.»  
The two brides looked at each other, uncomfortable and uncertain. On one hand, the information they'd get would be of incalculable value, but on the other -they couldn't stress it enough- it could end _horribly_ and if Nerissa became a delirious human protoplasm, Janos would come out shattered. The two vampiresses didn't know him very well, but they knew from Vorador's tales he was a kind, gentle man, and a thoughtful Sire. They would have hated to be the cause, albeit indirectly, of his suffering. Not to mention that they'd lose Nerissa, who, in the short time they'd known her, had grown to be like a friend to them.  
«You don't even know what you're doing» Selene pointed out. «You've never done anything like this before, have you?»  
Nerissa sighed. «Just once, with Janos. He let me watch through his eyes as he flew. It was glorious.»  
«This wouldn't be anything like it.»  
«I know.»  
«You could end up crazy, Nerissa.»  
«I know.»  
«Don't you think you've angered Janos enough with these pranks of yours?»  
Nerissa huffed. «I never asked permission to anyone, and I won't start with him. He's not my master.»  
«No, he's just the vampire who could kill you at the slightest-»  
«If he wants to kill me, he'll kill me. End of story» Nerissa snapped. «I'm not living in a costant fear of him, or anything he could do to me.»  
Selene sighed, frustrated. «Alright, alright, stop being so _difficult_. Listen here. I'm making a compromise here.»  
Nerissa perked up, grinning. «I knew I could count on you» she chirped, but quieted when both vampiresses gave her a stern look.  
«I'm not going to let you slip into Moebius' mind -don't you dare interrupt me, girl. This is not a game. I'm not going to let you get there, but I'll begin giving you a basic training on how to set mind-walls and sneak into minds without being detected. Deal?»  
«That's-»  
«All I am going to give you. Give or take.»  
Nerissa's lips became a narrow line. For a moment the brides were sure she was going to leave, but then the woman sighed and nodded. Apparently, a little was better than nothing.  
«Deal« Nerissa said, not fully satisfied but feeling a lot more _useful_ than before. For their part, Selene and Chandra really hoped Janos Audron wasn't fond of guillotines.

. . .

Authoress' note:  
So sorry for the long wait! :( Since I post as I go, there are those times when you just can't seem to write anything the way you'd like to. Forgive me :(  
 _kein Unschuldsengel_ : German for 'no innocent angel'. It was cool, so I used it. Sue me :)  
Thank you for the reviews and for sticking with me!  
I do not own in any shape or form the characters featured in this story -this also applies to the story's image cover and to the quotes at the beginning of each chapter. I only own my OCs and the story's plot.


	21. Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One

 _Music is a way to dream together  
And go to another dimension_

. . .

Nerissa should have expected it. Really, she should have.  
Not that she hadn't thought about how difficult it would be. Not that she hadn't known it would be difficult.  
«Focus, babe, you're distracted» Chandra said, and Nerissa nodded her head, grimacing.  
Her head throbbed with a full-fledged migraine. They'd been at it for hours, cramped in that room that was so small and dark and... wait... the ceilings were higher than that when they'd first gone in...  
Nerissa took another moment to compose herself. To the untrained eye, they looked as if they were having a nice little chat, with the two vampiresses sitting on the floor and the human woman sitting with her back to the dark stone wall.  
«Does it hurt, darling?» Selene asked, concern written all over her face. She was nestled in her wife's lap, her head resting on the crook of Chandra's neck, while the other vampiress had an arm loosely wrapped around her waist, their legs tangled. Nerissa thought they were very beautiful.  
«No, not so much» she said, and it was true. She wasn't going to give up because of a little pain.  
«We should take a break» Chandra said.  
«If you want to, fine, but don't feel forced to because of me».  
Chandra considered it for a moment, then nodded. «We'll try again, once, and then we'll pause. My legs are starting to feel cramped.»  
Selene chuckled and lifted her head to share a passionate kiss with her wife. Nerissa smiled softly. She'd been raised by people that thought love between two people of the same sex was wrong, dirty, and sinful, and for a long while as a child she'd believed them. Then, growing up, she thought about the word 'love', and had made a very simple and very true statement: if love was good, it was good in every form it came. Between partners, between parents and children, between siblings, and if love between partners was a good thing, why should it be scorned and condemned just because those partners were both men, or both women?  
Besides, if she were to be totally honest with herself, those two were hot when they kissed.  
Nerissa had kept that to herself, of course. Abraham had hated her enough as it'd been. But the forced silence she'd lived in hadn't prevented her from thinking.  
«Ready, babe?»  
She was ripped from her thoughts by Chandra's beautiful voice, a voice that sometimes reminded Nerissa of the purring of a large cat.  
And wasn't that a funny thought.  
Alright, maybe she wasn't really rational. Huh.  
«I'm ready.»  
She mentally prepared herself, concentrating with every fiber of her being on the will to _see_ through the fog that preceded someone else's mind. Almost immediately she felt strong barriers stopping her conscience, and they felt as if they were a solid, if not slightly rubbery, mouldable wall. Nerissa made an effort to push her conscience past that, push barely-there fragments of thought past those barriers and into the mind beyond. Her mind strained and burned hotter with the effort, but she kept on, fighting fiercely to overcome the barriers and have a look into Chandra's mind. The strain was making her mind tremble like an overworked muscle, something that's close to ceding.  
 _(the first time she'd seen Ezra hot and beautiful the way her skin had felt beneath her fingers how pleasurable their first night had been)_  
Chandra's mind closed with almost a metallic thud and Nerissa gasped, returning to her own body with a mental snap. A huge grin was splitting her face.  
«I saw something!» she cried, bolting up, then stopping abruptly to clutch at her head. She held in the groan of discomfort that wanted to come out. Realistically, Nerissa knew the pain wasn't even that much, but it felt deeper, more intimate than, say, a broken bone or a whiplash on her back. It was a pain that she'd never known before, at once hot and burning but still pleasant, the kind of ache that one gets after having worked outside or having sparred. A spar inside her head.  
Chandra chuckled, nodding approvingly. «You're learning, girl. I didn't expect you to manage to slip past my walls. But don't let it go to your head, those were weak ones and you still have a lot to learn.»  
Nerissa nodded, letting her head fall back until it met with the wall behind her. She grimaced slightly. The headache had worsened, not much, at least, but enough to let her know that if she hadn't needed a break back then, she certainly did now. That last effort had seemingly taken more out of her than she'd expected.  
As they sat in amiable silence, Nerissa asked a question she'd often wanted to pose, but that she'd never felt it was the right time for. She glanced up from the floor to meet the two women's gaze.  
«Is Ezra alright?»  
The vampiresses looked at her, a little surprised. They hadn't expected the question, but they hid their puzzlement well.  
«Oh, don't worry about her» said Chandra lightly. «She's just spent a few days in the dungeon. Lord Audron informed her -quite meticulously, if I am one to speak- of what would happen if she got close to you again, so she's now quite inclined not to touch you ever again.»  
«He didn't harm her, has he?»  
«Nothing permanent, I assure you. She healed within the day.»  
Nerissa sighed. She wouldn't have wanted Janos to hurt the red-haired bride, but on the other hand she felt flattered. She knew how her handsome vampire preferred diplomacy to violence, so having caused that level of a response in him was... well, if she was honest with herself, it was _extremely_ flattering. On a personal level, at least. She knew, though, that attacking Vorador's bride could have brought yet more strain on the already tense father-and-son relationship. They had looked calm enough before to her, but one can never know how well those two could hide their emotions. Especially Janos.  
«Would you like a tour out of the mansion?» asked Selene with a smile. «You're a little pale, you could use some sunlight and fresh air.»  
Nerissa smiled widely, her white teeth showing. «Yes, I'd love that. Will it be dangerous for you?»  
Selene and Chandra laughed at her unnecessary concern. «If it was, I wouldn't have suggested it. Come, we'll show you.»  
The vampiresses led her out of the dark room, entering a corridor that was more secluded and way less frequented than the others, so that no one would find out what they were doing. Nerissa enjoyed the time spent with those two, she'd needed to take her mind off problems and just have fun.  
With a smile, Nerissa followed them out -of a window of all things, but she should have known that vampires didn't much care for silly human things like doors. The brides just jumped out and gracefully landed on their tiptoes, Nerissa had to climb down the slippery stone wall, cursing them and their 'stupid vampireness'. The laughter she got with that last one made her laugh too.  
Once safe and sound on the ground, Nerissa breathed in the fresh air of the forest. Oh god, well, maybe to say fresh wasn't exactly the right phrasing: the smell of the stagnant water of the swamp wasn't really that of a rose basket, but after having been inside for so long, she found it pleasant nonetheless. Moreover, knowing that they would have to return to the Aerie soon, she knew she wouldn't have the chance to go outside often, so she treasured the time she had without complaint.  
They'd come out of the mansion from the back, Nerissa realized. There was an unused, dry fountain in the centre of the small backyard, surrounded by what looked like broken columns. Now, either she had completely misjudged Vorador and the absolute pride he took from his home, or those broken columns served a purpose. She said so, and the brides with her nodded.  
«We just use them to do exactly what we'll do later: to climb back inside. Even if maybe it would be a little tall for you... you don't have claws after all...» mused Chandra. Nerissa shook her head.  
«I'll make do with what I have. I'll climb back in.»  
«You just don't stop wanting to break your neck, do you?»  
«Never.»  
They went around the mansion to get to the courtyard, the one Nerissa had seen when she and Janos had arrived and the one she'd run across when she'd tried to run. The memory still made her flush in shame.  
The courtyard was large, luxurious and exquisitely elegant, although the looming angel statues on each side of the garden were creeping her out a bit. She asked for their purpose to the brides, gaze lingering on the beautifully chiseled features of the statues' faces.  
«Those are guardians to our home» Chandra explained smoothly. «They begin to move when an intruder enters from the gates, and fight to protect us from any threat that could come to those who inhabit this place.»  
«They represent the Ancients, don't they?» Nerissa asked, fascinated.  
«Yes» Selene answered, sobering. «Our husband had them carved out of marble long after their deaths. To commemorate them. He used the paintings in our home to have the faces carved -the eyes of one, the mouth of another and so on, so that he could celebrate all of them in one statue. Some of them were very dear to him. His father had been the... well... we could say official blacksmith of Janos' father. Vorigan Audron had only gone to him when he needed a sword or something of the sort.»  
«So Janos and Vorador knew each other, when they were children?»  
Chandra nodded. «Although I wouldn't say they were children when they met, Vorador was twenty already and your vampire was just a few years younger.»  
«Younger?»  
«In human years, Janos Audron is younger, yes. But while he was cursed when he was about thirty-five years old, he turned Vorador much later. Our love was forty-seven when he became a vampire.»  
Older as a vampire but younger in human years? God.  
«And when did _you_ become vampires?» asked Nerissa. She was curious -they didn't look much older than her, but she knew they were probably centuries old.  
«Uh... I... I don't remember very well» Selene said, caught off guard. «We don't really tend to count birthdays, you know... it would just become a cumbersome task, I think. Can you imagine inviting over all the friends you've made in over a thousand years of life? It'd become a huge mess, it would.»  
Nerissa laughed, her long curly locks swishing in the air. Then, sobering, she posed another question.  
«Does being turned hurt?»  
The vampiresses hummed, looking pensive.  
«Well... it does, at first. After all, to feel another's mouth sucking your very blood from your veins isn't exactly pleasant. But after a while it becomes... pleasurable. On a physical level, it's the equivalent of loving someone while also hating them.»  
Nerissa cocked her head to the side. Though she loved it when Janos nibbled on her neck, an actual vampire bite sounded painful. She couldn't understand how it could be pleasant.  
Chandra nodded her understanding of her confusion. «You'll only understand it when you get turned. Then you'll comprehend how much of a contradiction it is.»  
 _If I get turned_ , Nerissa thought with sadness. She wasn't sure Janos would be willing to do it. She'd heard him speaking of the Curse time and time again, and it didn't seem something he'd want to inflict on anyone. Vorador had been an exception of sorst -Janos hadn't even been sure it would have worked then, and Nerissa thought he was still fighting over his feelings, whether to be grateful his long time friend was still there or to be bitter he'd cursed another living being with his burden. In her opinion, vampirism could be a very good thing, if she could spend the eternity it gave her with Janos, but of course she didn't get the whole picture: after all, she wasn't able to imagine how their thirst for blood could be.  
Which brought up another question.  
«Do you find it difficult to be around me?» she asked quietly. The vampiresses smiled. Nerissa had never shown fear towards them, nor towards Vorador or anyone in the mansion. Her question, they thought, didn't come from real worry but from purely academic curiosity, just like anyone could ask themselves whether they'd ever be capable of killing someone.  
But no, to answer the question, they didn't find it difficult. They hadn't heard everything Janos and Vorador had told her, but their husband had given them some sort of general picture, and they'd found out their human guest could very well have vampiric origins. The discovery had been shocking. None of them had known it to be _possible,_ let alone that they had a living descendant in their home. But that would have explained a lot. Her scent, for example, and her pallor.  
«No, not really» Selene answered. «You smell like one of us. It doesn't really trigger anything. Ezra said that your blood tastes like that of a human who's been dead only for moments -sweet and tasty, but also strangely cold. Beginning to show the first signs of withering, so to speak. It is something we don't usually drink.»  
«Of course» Nerissa said, sardonic. «You noble vampires only drink finely brewed blood from living, kicking humans, right?»  
Chandra shook her head as Selene chuckled. «Oh, shut up.»  
Nerissa smiled with them as they walked on a paved path through the huge, elegant garden. It was a beautiful place, if one considered it was in the middle of a swamp. The leaves and small stones beneath her boots produced a creaking sound that made her chest swell with melancholy. It reminded her of all the times she'd gone for a walk in the palace gardens with her father as a little girl, in what had begun to seem another life antirely. Those were beautiful memories, but they were also painful and Nerissa chased them away with a bittersweet taste in her mouth.  
«You do realize he'll turn her, sooner or later, right?» asked Chandra in a light tone. Nerissa looked at her, her trance broken. «What?»  
«Janos. I think he'll soon turn you.»  
«What makes you say that? He'd made clear he doesn't want to.»  
Chandra and Selene both smiled. «He's in love. From the way he looks at you, it's clear he'd do anything to make you happy. And he won't watch you wither and die before his eyes. He'll turn you before your thirtieth brithday rolls around.»  
Nerissa smiled a little at their confident tone. «I'm not so sure...»  
«This isn't a mawkish story about sweet vampires and naïve humans, darling» Chandra said confidently. «He may have doubts now, but they'll go away very quickly. Just wait.»  
Nerissa's smile widened a hair. She highly doubted they would go away so easily, but she could hope. Janos didn't want to be separated from her, or at least so she hoped.  
«Well, if Janos refuses to turn me, I can always ask you» she jested, a small smile forming on her lips.  
«You are a strange human» Selene said, Chandra nodding in agreement. Nerissa's smile widened a hair, her eyes shining.  
They walked in silence for a while, admiring the place's beauty, until Chandra asked another question.  
«So, how did you come to know Moebius?»  
Nerissa grimaced. «It's not something I enjoy telling. Long story short, he tried to bed me and failed. That made him quite spiteful in my regards.»  
«That must have been awful.»  
«Yes. Then, to know he'd been inside my _mind_ all those years...» She shuddered. «It was disgusting.»  
It had been more than that. It had been revolting, she'd felt _violated_ , that dirty secret like the private and embarrassing smell of parched sheets stained with dried seed. It had been like discovering a putrefying carcass inside the closet.  
Yes, revolting was the right word for it.  
And tiring.  
She was tired.  
She'd walked all day and her feet hurt. Her back too, what with _carrying the staff around all day just to find a few kids that could be suitable..._

 _Ziegsturhl was silent. Its inhabitants despised the Sarafan as much as they despised the vampires, and they especially despised the reason for their arrival.  
But he didn't have a choice. He needed soldiers and the people could produce more children anyway. There were many young girls in town, they wouldn't lack material.  
The woman he was currently talking to was stubborn. She didn't want to part from the boy. He made a nonchalant gesture with the hand that wasn't holding the staff and one of the soldiers was on her immediately. The man forced her to let go of her child, carelessly breaking her arm in the process. Moebius was deaf to her cries as the soldiers dragged the screaming boy away.  
The party moved on. They took three more boys before Moebius arrived to the last house he would visit today.  
The people inside had barricaded themselves inside. Despite that, the soldiers broke the door down quite easily.  
The parents tried to fight, of course. All of them did. As the men held them down, Moebius and a couple others searched the home. They found two girls only.  
The Time Streamer hissed. Girls wouldn't become the soldiers he needed. They would be of no use on the battlefield.  
But maybe...  
«Take them both» he said, calm once again. «They'll become fine cooks.»  
What he didn't say was that which was most clear. Men fought. Moved each day from one place to another. They didn't spend enough time in one city to relieve their animalistic urges. And those girls would become very beautiful  
_ (useful) _  
women indeed.  
«NO!»  
«Let them go!»  
«Please no, no, no, oh no please, please don't, please-»  
The girls were crying. Moebius didn't particularly care, even though the sound of their cries -so high pitched, so damnably shrill- was incredibly annoying.  
«No! Wait! Let them go!»  
Moebius abruptly spun around. The voice had been new, still child-like, but more masculine.  
The boy was standing a scarce distance away, small chest heaving, large blue eyes wide open and frightened.  
«What do we have here?» he asked, raising a white, almost non-existent eyebrow. «What's your name, my boy?»  
The boy's voice came out quivering. He was trembling in front of him, but though his eyes showed fear, they also showed determination.  
«My name is Raziel, my lord.»_

Nerissa's eyes snapped open.  
She wouldn't remember what she'd seen for a very long time.

. . .

Authoress' note:  
I'M SO SORRY! SO SO SO SORRY! Life happened and I wasn't prepared!  
I do not own in any shape or form the characters featured in this story -this also applies to the story's image cover and to the quotes at the beginning of each chapter. I only own my OCs and the story's plot.


	22. Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Two

 _If music be the food of love,  
Play on._

. . .

Janos and Nerissa left a few days after that vision, which Nerissa forgot almost as soon as it'd ended. Vorador and his brides -save Ezra, who still didn't dare approach neither Janos nor his human- came to say goodbye, the green-skinned vampire looking sombre, his already thin lips shrunk to a tight line. He told Janos to come to him whenever he needed -the mansion's doors would always be open for him. The winged vampire graciously accepted the offer, grateful that his son didn't hold it against him when he chose to leave anyway. By now, to Janos, it had become more than just his guardianship: if he abandoned it now, he'd show Vorador a weakness that, in his opinion, the younger vampire wasn't yet ready to see in him. Janos had been his rock for too long to suddenly fail him like that, collapsing. And Vorador -even if his fledgling would have vehemently protested at that- wasn't ready to fully support him should he fall.  
He'd be strong for Vorador, if nothing else.  
The journey back to the Aerie was as unpleasant as the one to the mansion, although Nerissa's weight in his arms was always a welcome one. Even if the woman knew by now what to expect, the feeling of teleporting from one place to another left her uncomfortably breathless anyway. Despite the good time she'd had in Vorador's domain, she was glad to be in their previous solitude again. A lifetime of fleeing the life in a court had left her unable to be in a crowd for long. Though the mansion hadn't exactly been crowded, it had still held more people than what she was comfortable with.  
The first few days were spent in their usual routine, Janos teaching her and Nerissa finally completing the harp she'd been crafting with the abandoned objects she found in the Aerie. The first evening the instrument's music resounded in the progressively-freezing halls was a moment of great joy for both, as if another piece of the puzzle of their lives had fallen back into place. The only thing Janos found to be a little out of place was his mate's unusual quieteness around him. Normally, Nerissa would happily chat away with him, curious about anything she wasn't familiar with, no matter how difficult or how trivial. Instead, during those last days, she'd been quieter, often lost in thought, distracted. Often, he would find her looking at him from beneath her long lashes when she thought he couldn't see her. They weren't the usual appreciative gazes, although those weren't completely absent. No, these gazes were more... pensive, in a way, as if she were weighing difficult options. The ancient vampire was puzzled at that newfound behaviour, but not overly concerned: she didn't seem worried, or unhappy, simply thoughtful. He let her be, knowing that Nerissa would tell him anything he would need to know.  
Janos had been sure and tranquil in that knowledge, and so he hadn't been prepared. When she finally told him, it hit him like a battering ram.  
They'd both been lounging lazily on the balcony, her back to his chest and Janos' wings covering her shoulders, his arms loosely wrapped around her middle, silently admiring the stars in the clear night sky. Her hands rested on his forearms, absently caressing the skin, a blissful smile gracing her chiseled features. It had been irresistible to Janos, who had gently tilted her head to the side and back to softly press his lips against hers. Nerissa lifted an arm and reached behind his head, carding her fingers in his hair to pull him closer. She chuckled happily into his mouth, eager to make up for the time they'd spent arguing and distancing each other. She didn't want to _do_ anything, just kissing and cuddling for a while was enough, even if Janos' breathtaking body called for hers like nothing before.  
Janos smiled, joyful that their divergences had finally been settled, content with holding her in his arms. His lips travelled down along her jaw and settled on her neck, kissing at her pulse point and nibbling at the skin there. He miscalculated, though, the sharpness of his long canines: with a surprised gasp on his part, the tip of his teeth scratched the skin too far, breaking it into a thin cut and drawing a tiny drop of blood to the surface. It hit his tongue before he could draw back, its warm, sweet metallic taste hot in his mouth. With a choking sound Janos made to draw away, only to be stopped by the hand still in his hair.  
«Why are you stopping?» Nerissa murmured, hot breath against his ear. «You know I want you, everything about you, Janos...»  
The meaning of her words reached him a second later, a shocked hiss fleeing his mouth. He abruptly stood up, backing away, eyes wide and teeth showing.  
« _What?!_ » he choked out. Nerissa regarded him calmly.  
«I thought about it. I'm sure.»  
«Nerissa...»  
She didn't pay any mind to the warning edge in his voice. Her smile was pleasant, as if they'd been talking about the weather.  
«Honestly, I don't know why you are so surprised. I'd thought you would have expected it, after all.»  
Janos bristled. His feathers puffed out, making his wings appear twice the size they normally were. They looked _huge_. «You... would ask that as if it was... something healthy. Something _normal_.»  
«It is for us.»  
The simple, clean truth of that statement wasn't something Janos was ready for. He guessed he'd always known the matter would come up at some point, just not so _soon_. She was still so young -she could think about a forever with him all she wanted, but the reality was that she couldn't possibly grasp the concept of living for eternity. And no matter how much young people like her _felt_ eternal, they _were_ _not_ and could not comprehend what it meant to truly live forever. Oddly enough, and as paradoxical as it sounded, death was the humans' certainty, even if its cold grasp still seemed so far away.  
And now she came to him, telling him that she wanted to die.  
Because, really, could it be anything but a pseudo-death of sorts?  
«Perhaps» he conceded slowly. He was standing motionless, the cold air of early winter biting at his back and wings as it came in through the balcony.  
He shook his head slowly. «I... don't really know what to say» he confessed. «I should compliment you, I think. It is not often I find myself speechless.»  
Nerissa smiled that soft smile of hers, coming closer to cup his face with a hand. Janos turned his face into her palm, mouth resting against her wrist. Blue veins pulsed beneath her white skin, Janos really noticing their enticing looks for the first time.  
«I can't condemn you to this, my love» he whispered, drawing back again. This time Nerissa let him go, allowing him to go far enough to look at her in the eyes. «You have no idea of what this is... never letting the kiss of water near your skin, unable to ever let the sun warm your skin... and this constant cold... I can't imagine such a life for you, _not for you_ , Nerissa...»  
The woman shook her head, her hands resting on the sides of Janos' face. «Would you have me die instead?» she whispered. «I don't care about the pain, my love. I've fought the suffering my whole life, I can do so forever until it becomes a _part of me_. If it meant I could be beside you...»  
She lowered her gaze, unable to express her feelings through something as fleeting as words. Janos understood her anyway, that unnatural mental like of theirs allowing him to comprehend without words being spoken.  
«I would never allow you to lose your life for something like me» he said with force, gripping her face in his bifid hands. «You do not know what you're asking of me».  
«You're right. I do not» she answered, her fingers travelling in caresses down his cheeks. «But I want to learn. I want to share your life. Your joy, your pain and everything in between. Your burden, too, so that you won't be forced to bear it alone.»  
 _But you do not know the extent of that burden, my love_ , Janos thought, even as he leaned into her touch, burning to kiss her and at the same moment to draw away, to explain, to taint those beautiful words and desires with his harsh, harsh reality.  
He knew he should. Why did it have to be so damn difficult?!  
Worse, he knew that a part of his soul, deep inside him, was chirping like a joyful little bird at the suggestion. He wanted to have her close forever, and he wanted a less morbid way to accomplish that. Unfortunately, the two things couldn't be put into the same sentence and be expected to work. But perhaps they could still wait a little longer, until she was older. Perhaps by then she'd have made up her mind and-  
And what? He knew she _wouldn't_ make up her mind, not in this matter. He could perhaps convince her to wait, but not to give her wish up. And when she became a vampire, what then?  
It had been selfish of him, he had always known and now that knowledge tore him apart. What had he thought he could offer her? He could not abandon his guardianship and with every passing second he was chaining her to a life of misery and pain. He should have never allowed their bond to grow this close, for now he realized he could not live without her, and he desperately needed her to live without him. To make her stay was condemning her to death, and to send her away would be the death of him.  
What would he do when the Sarafan came for him?  
 _But the Sarafan are already here...  
They will find a way to get to you! Humans may be fragile, but they are incredibly persistent, that much you have to give them.  
We have wards. Magic wards. And they do not possess the Reaver, all they would do is getting to the bridge vault and be forced to stop there. Moreover, even if they did get past that, they'd need a vampire hand to open the main doors... hell, even if they managed _that _-which is highly impossible, mind you-, both of you can_ fight _, damn it. You've never gone down like a tiny, docile lamb before. Are you seriously going to begin_ now _?_  
In his head, the gears turned at amazing speed, building towers of possibilities and destroying them as easily as they'd been constructed in the first place. Deep inside, he knew it was all just for show. A show for himself, because the decision had already been made.  
 _It's been made the moment you met her_.  
Perhaps. That didn't stop him from wishing another ending for them both.  
«Do you understand the kind of life you'll be leading here?» he murmured, her hands still having to leave his face. «You'll never get to see the sea you claim to love.»  
Nerissa smiled softly. «The sea is always there. It won't escape. You, on the other hand...»  
«I'd argue it's you, the one who escapes.»  
«Wouldn't this be the perfect chance to forever chain me to you?»  
«I don't want to _chain_ you-»  
«But I already am. This will just be the physical proof of it».  
Janos sighed, holding her closer still. He inhaled her scent. «Do you want to do it now?» he murmured.  
«Would you be willing to?» Nerissa whispered back.  
«It's useless to stall. I'm sick of having second thoughts. I love you and nothing is going to change that. I also know I'd never be able to watch you wither and die before my very eyes, knowing I have the means to stop that, and yet refusing to use them. I...»  
The ancient vampire paused, swallowing. He bent his head to touch Nerissa's forehead with his own, words failing him yet again.  
«I know» she whispered. «I know... and I do too.»  
He smiled weakly, heart pounding in anticipation. She kissed that smile, eyes warm in his own.  
«The bedroom?» he asked, hands drawing shapeless patterns on her back.  
«Seems the most comfortable place to do it. Is it?»  
«It is.»  
«Then let us go. I love you.»  
He didn't answer with words. His kiss was hot and lasted a long time, and yet it felt insufficient to express his inner turmoil.  
Janos led her away nonetheless, guiding her by the hand and basking in the soft, candle-like glow of her eyes on his face. The rush of his own blood in his ears became deafening when they finally opened the doors, when they sat on the bed together. Nerissa slid into his arms easily, her nose buried in his neck as if she were the one about to bite down on that soft, vulnerable flesh.  
«It will hurt» Janos whispered.  
«I know. I don't care.»  
The vampire closed his eyes.  
He had done this before. He could do it again, without incidents. He also had Vorador and he knew his fledgling wouldn't refuse to help in case Janos needed it. Nerissa, his mate, his _wife_ , was safe in his arms.  
Her hands in his pitch black hair, Janos raised a prayer to all the gods out there in Nosgoth.  
 _What if I kill her? If she's not strong enough?  
Too late, Janos Audron,_ a grim voice said, in the exact moment he opened his mouth wide and bit.

. . .

Authoress' note:  
-hides behind Loki-: blame him! It's totally his fault! It's definitely not me who couldn't come up with anything decent for this story, because life's a bitch and selective writer's block even more so. Yep. Definitely not me.  
So very sorry for the lateness and the shortness of this chapter! I'll do better, I promise! Also, many thanks and a hug to Razieletta95, I saw your review as I was posting this chapter!  
I do not own in any shape or form the characters featured in this story -this also applies to the story's image cover and to the quotes at the beginning of each chapter. I only own my OCs and the story's plot.


	23. Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Three

 _The earth has music  
For those who listen.  
_. . .

The sweet taste that filled Janos' mouth was like nothing he'd tasted before. Nerissa's blood was liquid summer, it was the sound of the rustling leaves, it was the feeling of untamed river water in his mouth. It was the sweet scent of flowers at twilight. It was the secret music of the stars at night. It was the first time he'd tasted human blood, the terror and delight of that sweet taste, and the first time he'd taken to the skies. He suddenly felt extremely young and very, very old.  
Nerissa's hands in his hair, her gentle grip becoming claws in the silky strands. She was clenching at it now, strenght waning and muscles failing as more and more blood left her body. Her heart was beating frantically, trying and failing to get her to move, scream, run, anything -but Nerissa held still, pushing her bleeding neck against his moving lips, mind short-circuiting in a blurry haze of weakness, pain and deep pleasure. He could smell the faint scent of her arousal beneath the stronger one of her blood, could feel her body jerking in tiny aborted spasms born of pleasure. His eyes fell closed as he sighed, her blood making him stronger and stronger still, her body feeling heavier and heavier in his arms. Eventually, after longer than he'd expected, the hand in his hair stopped gripping and fell away, Nerissa's body only able to keep breathing as her heart began to stutter and his own black one began to scream again.  
 _(Oh God pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease)_  
Another sucking noise, another drag from her body, another aborted heartbeat. Nerissa's breathing faltered and stopped altogether, eyes going glassy as her heart gave one last, loud, powerful spasm.  
Only silence followed. Janos was alone.  
Alone with a corpse.  
He smiled sweetly, laying her back on the bed with care. He wiped his mouth with a corner of her tunic, getting up and stretching his wings back, a satisfied sound leaving his throat. He was full of sweet, young, strong blood, and blood that had come so easily, too. No struggle at all -a willing offer.  
 _Such trust, my beautiful Nerissa_.  
Such trust, indeed.  
Janos gently wrapped her up in the bloodied sheet, carefully tucking each part of her in. With the same care he lifted her in his arms, her still warm body held close against his. He carried her out of the bedroom they'd shared for so long and into the corridors, freezing stone beneath his feet, icy woods against his hands as he opened the doors to his study and stepped in.  
The wind was howling deafeningly, the storm raging outside roaring. It had scattered his books and quills and furniture everywhere, but Janos didn't notice them.  
He walked slowly into the balcony, feeling the fury of the wind on his body, the sheet with which he'd covered Nerissa's corpse fluttering with it.  
«It has been wonderful, my little Nerissa» he whispered to the dead woman. «Wonderful, my love. Words have no way of describing it. It was the most perfect moment of my life.»  
But it was a stupid thing to be doing. Nerissa could answer no more.  
Janos spread his arms a little wider and watched, watched as the hidden body fell into the roaring waters of the lake beneath, sinking into their wet dark depths, never to be found again. He was still watching when he heard the wooden doors of his study slam, and he turned sharply, a frown on his face.  
The blade was in his chest, splitting his ribs open before he could even speak. He found himself staring into icy blue eyes as  
 _(Raziel)_  
the raven-haired Sarafan grinned triumphantly, and he was falling, falling back into the wind and to the water where Nerissa was buried, to her dead waiting arms-  
Only to land on a mattress a moment later, golden eyes wide and terrified and a scream clawing at his slender blue throat. He gasped as he woke, his heart pounding deafeningly in his ears.  
 _A nightmare. Just a nightmare._  
Janos reached beside him with a shaking hand, finding Nerissa exactly where she'd lain for the past two weeks. She was breathing evenly, deeply asleep as the Blood Curse seeped into her veins and made her one of his own kind. Her large green eyes were closed, impossibly long eyelashes resting on her pale cheeks -so pale, indeed, that they'd now taken a faint blue hue. Her hair had spilt upon the pillow and the curls circled her head like a darkly coloured halo.  
Breathing a sigh of pure relief, Janos closed his eyes for a moment, bifid blue hand resting on her chest, just above her left breast, trying and failing to feel her heartbeat. When he opened them again, nothing had changed, just as it had been for the past few days.  
Janos was beginning to wonder. He'd never heard of the Slumber lasting for so long, but Nerissa had surprised him before, the last time being just two weeks ago, as he was preparing to place a part of his own soul in her. Just as he was ready to begin, she'd suddenly gasped, a rough gurgling sound, and had begun to cough irrepressibly, turning on her side and almost falling off the bed in her fit. Her eyes had been open and shocked and aware for a moment as Janos grabbed her by the shoulders, just before rolling back into her head, plunging her into darkness once more. Janos had been sure he'd drained her, and yet, she'd begun to breathe on her own, heart still and silent in her chest.  
Janos suspected it wouldn't be the last time he'd gape at her.  
Now, carefully tucked in his bed, Nerissa slept peacefully, the only signs that she was even still alive  
 _(in a manner of speaking)_  
being the soft rise and fall of her chest and her occasional movement beneath the covers. She was already beginning to gain a vampire's unique paleness and her skin had lost all warmth. To all the living beings on Nosgoth, Nerissa Graves was a breathing corpse.  
 _An abomination_.  
Janos sighed, getting up and leaving their bed. He should have felt regret, perhaps, knowing that this was _so_ _wrong_ ,but he couldn't bring himself to do so. While it didn't feel exactly _right_ , at least not yet, Janos didn't feel an ounce of remorse. An abomination they may be, but what a perfect one they made together.  
 _Utter perfection_.  
His incapability to find horror in what he'd done had enabled Janos to develop other emotions regarding Nerissa's transformation. He'd found himself growing more and more curious about what she would become. He had no idea of what her double nature could bring forth, although it was obvious it was helping her Turning somewhat. Her skin had already paled to the point it was almost blue, her nails had sharpened into claws and he'd noticed, as he was checking on her, that her irises were already showing the first flecks of gold, although those were sparse and far in-between. The scars on her back, too, were fading, becoming no more than unpleasant, distant memories that had been handed over to the past. The only thing that hadn't changed at all were her lips: those were still stubbornly retaining their vivid lilac colour, refusing to be changed by the Blood Curse. Janos thought nothing of it. Everyone reacted differently to the Curse after all: those who had changed little, or not at all, like Janos himself, and those who'd gone through radical changes, the fastest to come to mind being Vorador, and Valstrath Lancaster. Janos could still picture it, his fledgling's horror when his thick black hair had begun to fall and the pale, quiet desperation of his mentor when one day he'd opened his blind eyes and had seen the world clearly for the first time.  
He hoped the same thing didn't happen to Nerissa. He was quite fond of her long curly locks.  
Still a little shaken from his dream, he decided to walk a little to unwind. It wasn't the first time Janos awoke from a nightmare, each time haunted by those triumphant ice blue eyes, eyes that seemed to glow in the dark, always the same, whether they came to him in a young human visage or in the tattered, destroyed ruins of what had once been a face. He could never recall much of his dreams, only that they were terrifying enough to wake him up to the sounds of his own screams.  
Later, Janos found himself curled on the balcony, wings a black cocoon around him, his cats in his lap and draped over his shoulders, nursing a goblet of blood. He stared up at the stars, finding them cold in the chilly winter sky, and enjoying the silence far less than how he'd used to. Now it was just an unpleasant reminder of his long days of solitude, when loneliness had plagued him and threatened to make him lose his mind. He tried plucking at Nerissa's harp's strings, but having never played it before, he found the notes to be off-key and dissonant, so he left the instrument alone. The vampire had no desire to ruin it with his untrained hands -his mate had spent many long hours crafting it, pleasantly chatting with him between a curse and another. He longed to hear that heavenly music again, and resolved to ask Nerissa to play once more once she'd woken up, beginning her new second life.  
This trust between them... after Valstrath, Janos had never trusted anybody so. Not even Vorador, whom he'd created and been friends with from before all Hell broke loose. He trusted Vorador, but not enough to show him his flaws, his fears, the weakness he sometimes fell prey to.  
Perhaps he felt Nerissa didn't need that from him. She'd faced the betrayal of one of her parents, created an armor around that peculiar, delicate part of herself. She'd grown with no one's help, apart perhaps that of her nursemaid's. She needed no mentor, wasn't afraid of Janos' own fear.  
She'd be fine.  
 _We'll be fine_.  
The vampire looked down on his lap, two drowsy yellow eyes staring back from a sleepy furry head. He petted the cat gently, murmuring.  
«We shall wait and see, hm? Just like we've always done. And perhaps, in a while, the future won't seem as dark as it looks now. You probably don't even remember how it was to live outside of this retreat, do you?»  
Of course they wouldn't. They were so tiny when he'd found them, little more than furballs with legs, mewling desperately under a broken staircase. The humans would have had much to talk about, had they seen the soft way he'd coaxed the two tiny creatures out, how gently he'd held them in his large blue hands. How he'd brought them home. Cared for both. Would they think him such a monster now, if they had?  
Étienne stared at him in silence.  
 _How could I know, you strange blue vampire?_  
Indeed.  
He was uncomfortable now. Talking with his cats sounded a bit too much like what he'd do back then, and those were not memories he recalled fondly. Curious, what just a few months with another sentient being could do to his mind.  
 _Little more than half a year._  
Perhaps her Turning _had_ been too rushed.  
No. He would not begin to question himself now. It was no use to anyone and, if he were completely honest with himself, it didn't feel that way. It had felt good, sweet. Natural.  
It was beginning to feel right.  
Janos closed his eyes.

 _Red. Red everywhere. Red into the pale eyes before him, staring wide and lifeless from a midnight-skinned visage. Valstrath's white locks dripped with red, the hand over Janos' own viscid with it. Red soaked the stone floor as it flowed from the Ancient's cut throat.  
The cut had been made by what should have been expert hand. Oh, yes, Janos had been a cut-throat, in his own time. But now? His hand had shaken so badly he'd had to slash twice before getting it right.  
Janos was terrified.  
How could they overcome this, if even Valstrath had lost hope?  
H_ _e'd looked at Janos with his deep, sensitive-to-sunlight red eyes and had asked him the only thing the raven-winged vampire would have never wanted to give him._  
'I made a mistake, little one', _he'd said, calm as ever, but his eyes had betrayed his suffering._ 'An unforgivable mistake, one I cannot turn my back to. I surrendered.'  
 _Janos had looked upon him with wide open eyes, but before he could speak, Valstrath had placed a dark obsidian dagger in his hands._  
'I'm asking you to put me out of my misery, Janos, for I cannot. The spirit may be strong, but the flesh is weak...'  
 _The albino had sighed, shaking his head. His long, white hair brushing on his broad shoulders._  
'I see your fear. I wish I could console you.'  
 _He'd tried. He'd tried so hard to convince the older Ancient to stay. But then he'd seen the utter desperation, the complete hopelessness that inhabited the other's eyes, and had understood.  
He held his mentor's body close, watching helplessly as the white hair became soaked with crimson, as the hand that clutched his lost its strenght, as the red eyes he respected and loved lost their light. Valstrath's snow white wings had shaken one last time, just to lie in Janos' arms, motionless and devoid of life.  
_ Careful with the bridges, little raven _, Valstrath's voice whispered._ You'll end up dead if you don't watch those.  
-Did it hurt? Dying?  
You were quick. Remember this moment, because your downfall begins now.  
 _And his eyes shone blue, glowing like phantom candles_.

. . .

Vorador had showed up rather unexpectedly, four weeks into Nerissa's slumber. By then, Janos had begun wondering why it was taking so long.  
«I hope you won't mind me staying for a while» his fledgling had said, everything about him screaming that he didn't care one bit if Janos did, indeed, mind. Not that the Ancient did, of course. He'd missed this Vorador, the one who would joke and laugh with him, providing a comfort Janos didn't always realize he needed.  
Janos had shaken his head, smiling gently, heart warming at his son's gruff and somewhat sweet behaviour. He wouldn't tell Vorador so, of course. God forbid the green-skinned vampire was anything but cruel and heartless and all that.  
«I don't» Janos said sincerely, before adding playfully: «I missed this, Vorador -not arguing as soon as we saw each other.»  
Vorador snickered. «I must confess I did, too, father. I still think you're mad and should be locked in, but still.»  
«Oh, thank you. I'm touched.»  
«I should hope so. Where's the annoying brat?»  
Janos told him. Vorador's eyes widened and a broad grin splitted his face.  
«I take back what I said. There's still hope for you yet. This is a most joyous day -I thank the gods I don't believe in for making you come to your senses, I will sacrifice virgins to their altars, I will-»  
«You will shut up before I kick you out» Janos laughed.  
«Do you still _remember_ how to kick? Today's definitely a day to remember!»  
« _Vorador!_...»  
The younger vampire cackled, not in a nasty way. «We should spar again, father. I miss seeing you in action.»  
Janos smiled a little. «My combat skills are somewhat rusty, I'm afraid.»  
«More reason still to do so, then. We'll have you back in track in no time.»  
The Ancient grinned, eyes warmly lit in the cold winter sun. «Let's just hope there won't be any occasions in which I need those skills» he said, knowing as the words left his lips that it was only wishful thinking. If the Sarafan at the feet of his Aerie were anything to go by, he'd need those skills at least once more in his life.  
«And you say you bit her four weeks ago?» Vorador asked after a pause. At Janos' nod, he frowned slightly. «It is... an unusually long a Slumber».  
«I know. I also know you'll say I worry too much, but... well...»  
«You worry.»  
«Yes.»  
Vorador smiled gently as his father fretted. «How much time have you spent coddled up here?»  
Janos didn't answer. Vorador shook his head.  
«You need to unwind» he said decisively. «I'd suggest a ''boys' night out'', but I assume you'd never leave her alone like this.»  
«Indeed.»  
«Then, off you go. Fly around for a bit. Find yourself something good to eat. Stay out at least a couple of hours and take your mind off your inexistent problems. I'll remain here with her.»  
«Vorador...»  
«Don't 'Vorador' me. Just do as you're told for once and _go_ , you mother hen. I swear, you worry more than an old grandmother.»  
Janos laughed, a sound Vorador hadn't heard in way too long, and raised his hands in surrender. The green-skinned vampire looked pleased as the Ancient stretched his wings, which were beginning to feel cramped after so long without a good flight.  
«I would have never expected such a kind, selfless gesture from you, my son» he said, a sardonic smile playing at the edge of his lips, and ducked to avoid Vorador's weak telekinetic blast. Still laughing, he gracefully took off with a slight leap and a powerful downbeat of his wings, disappearing out of the large window and out of sight, into the deliciously cold winter sky.  
The shock of the cold air against his body was breathtaking. Janos felt his throat and lungs burn with it, the bite of it against the exposed skin as pleasing as it was destabilising. He found himself stalling for a moment and the pause gave him the time to hear and see what was beneath him.  
Far, far down, at the feet of his retreat, the Sarafan warriors waited. He found himself moved as he watched them, all young in his ancient eyes, shivering in the cold much like Zoe and Étienne were when he'd found them. It was early evening, but the sun had already disappeared, plunging the world in the gloomy grey-black of winter nights, but Janos had no problems whatsoever distinguishing the faces of the humans -scowling, against the dark, the cold or himself, he could not say, their cheeks glowing rosy from the icy wind he found so refreshing. The vampire shook his head to himself, too far up to be seen, and changed the angle of his wings, veering towards Uschtenheim.  
It wasn't a long flight and when he approached the first groups of houses, as dark as a clot of coagulated blood, he could almost hear the sound of their thoughts over the almost silent glide of his wings. There were guards on the rooftops, young and beautiful in their own way, and Janos landed silently on one of the tallest houses there, just one roof away from one of them, crouching a little as the shadows concealed him. He could almost imagine what the young man was thinking: how he'd be able to see them if  
 _(when)_  
they came, how he'd topple them from the sky with his crossbow, alerted of their presence by their glowing red eyes. But when Janos covered his mouth with his large, graceful hand, the young man didn't see cruel red pinpoints of light in the dark. No, the eyes he saw were warm, golden and full of something that was almost akin to pity, to compassion. The man was young enough to have been influenced by what his general had told him, but not old enough for those words to be carved in his soul like sentences on a stone monument -still young enough to believe in what his own eyes were seeing. Though his heart pounded in his chest and his neck, though fear coursed through him like acid on his skin, he didn't find it in himself to hate Janos Audron. He closed his eyes when the Ancient undid the clasps on his helmet, taking it off, and gasped as Janos bit down, feeling the vampire's hunger in his bones. He had time to be glad for one thing, at least: if he had to die because of a vampire bite, he was thankful it was by Janos' own fangs, and not by the hands of his own companions. He knew the Ancient would kill him, but it would be swift, almost painless, while being impaled on a spike lest he become a vampire himself would be far worse. He mouthed his thanks to the cold indifferent sky as his vision darkened, never to see the light again.  
Janos laid the lifeless corpse down with care, closing the eyes of the young man that had come so close to understanding. The vampire had seen it in the boy's eyes, and was grateful for that small moment, when he'd been gazed upon without hatred and contempt.  
He raised his gaze to the moon, breathing in the icy air. The stars eyed the world, sparkling like diamonds on dark velvet. The moon itself looked unnatural, like a portal to another world, from which thousands of unblinking eyes stared.  
It was unsettling and beautiful.  
He wondered if the Hylden saw the same moon, from where they were now.  
He wondered if any of them had survived.  
Women. Children. Old ones who couldn't fight.  
And Hash'ak'gik.  
Janos' eyes hardened and he closed his heart to those old, unwelcome memories. He knew he shouldn't feel like that, not after all those years, knew he should feel at least a shred of pity for the ones that had done nothing to deserve the banishment... but the truth was he'd give every single one of those lives to have his world back, to have his family and Valstrath back -his mentor, whose throat he'd had to _slit_ as if he were a _rabbit_ because of those bastards...  
Janos sighed and shook his head slowly. It was too old an event to still be considered relevant. If any of them survived, they did so far away from Nosgoth and its beautiful lands. They no longer _mattered_.  
All that mattered now was to save the world he lived in, and with it his own species. He would be patient. He would wait. And when the Saviour came, he would hand the Reaver over.  
 _And then I'll be free.  
_ The perspective almost robbed him of his breath, seeing as he actually had something to look forward to once his task was completed. Before, he'd always assumed he would leave the Aerie -he'd never had any illusions that the Sarafan wouldn't find it before he could leave, and even if they didn't, it still wouldn't be safe to keep living there. After that, he had thought he would stay with Vorador for a while, as his son had been adamant that he wanted his father around for a while, 'to see that you don't fall into depression again, wouldn't want to have to sweep all the fallen feathers from the floors again'.  
After that, Janos admittedly had no idea of what he would do. He'd caressed the idea of going back to the sea, find himself a place to live where he could hear the waves. A place where he could be close to his kin without risking death every time he decided to put his nose out of the door. Janos thought he could still do that, after all, only this time he'd have someone with him.  
 _If she doesn't leave first.  
Shut up._  
 _I'm so tired of doubting everything_.  
The ancient vampire raised his visage, letting the wind caress it with its cold fingers. He closed his eyes, enjoying the quiet, soothing effect of it, until he decided he'd tested his luck enough for that one evening. He took off in a blur of feathers, leaving the small town behind, and headed deeper into the mountains, feeling strangely like a pearl that was running on the thread where it had been slipped to create a necklace. He found the cold, dark snow that covered the mountains, where he landed and sat on the cold ground, alone and in peace.

. . .

When Janos returned from his hunt, he found Vorador waiting for him in the library, legs crossed, an open book in his lap and a knowing smirk on his face.  
The ancient vampire quirked an eyebrow.  
«What's with the smile?» he asked, a little confused as he approached his fledgling, his talons making a _tick-tick-tick_ sound on the stone floor.  
«Nothing...» the green-skinned vampire grinned. «Your little human really is your soulmate, hm?»  
Janos smiled softly, sitting in front of the fire with his legs crossed. «I guess she is. How is she doing?»  
«She was born to be a vampire, but do not change subject. Seriously, when were you going to tell me?»  
«You've known for months now» Janos said, completely lost.  
«Are you kidding me?! I've just found out!»  
«Are you sure we're talking about the same subject?»  
Vorador rolled his eyes while Janos righted a dangerously-close-to-falling goblet from the table at his fledgling's side. «I'm talking about the goddamn wings that are growing on her back, what about you?»  
A sharp noise of broken glass echoed in the room and Vorador's gaze snapped up.  
The ancient vampire was holding the remnants of the shattered goblet in mid air, mouth agape and eyes wide.  
« _W_ _hat?!_ »

Authoress' note:  
Thank you for your reviews, you're awesome, guys! One thing, I really need reviews for this chapter in particular, because I know not if the idea of a winged Nerissa is okay with the story in general and with Legacy of Kain's universe. I'd really like not to make Nerissa another Mary-Sue-OC. Thank you in advance :)  
I do not own in any shape or form the characters featured in this story -this also applies to the story's image cover and to the quotes at the beginning of each chapter. I only own my OCs and the story's plot.


	24. Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Four

 _Music  
Is the universal language of mankind_

 _. . ._

In Janos' defense, those raised lines on Nerissa's back hadn't been there when he'd last checked on her, and even if they were, the irregular shapes beneath the thin fabric had been quite similar to the scars he'd usually felt beneath his own palms. But now that he saw them closely, he could see that the skin on her back had broken without bleeding, showing faint shadows of muscle that should have been red and was, instead, light blue. In the middle of those cuts, Janos could see the first splinters of new bones and, just peeking out of the skin around the irritated flesh, tiny, pale little feathers that were all in all similar to the soft down he had on his own back at the base of his great black wings.  
He had to sit for a while after that. Vorador laughed at his expression and Janos didn't have the strenght to even glare.  
«Do you even know what it means to me, Vorador?» he said, voice rough. «All this time... since their death, I thought...»  
His fledgling's gaze softened and Vorador nudged him with his elbow. «I know. Hell, I'd react like that too if I saw one of my fledglings suddenly grow huge bat ears. But _this_...»  
Vorador gestured in their rooms' general direction. «This is good, Janos. This... _creature_... whatever she is, whatever she's becoming or was, she's _good_. For you especially, but I'm beginning to suspect that she'll be good for our entire race. I'm no seer, but these wings give me a good feeling. Something like hope, perhaps.»  
Janos smiled a little. «You used to tell me that hope is only there to prolong our suffering with the perspective of a better future» he said.  
«I still think so. But maybe some hopes actually do bring a better future forth.»  
Janos laughed in his quiet, heartfelt way. «When did you become so wise, my son?»  
Vorador smirked. «I believe it's Selene's fault. Incredibly beautiful and very, very wise.»  
«At least I know now why she's taking so long with her Slumber» Janos said. «If she is to grow wings like my own...»  
He still couldn't believe it. One drop of vampiric blood that coursed in her veins and look what it had brought forth. He shook his head minutely. Then he started to laugh.  
Vorador raised an eyebrow. «What's so funny?»  
«I will teach her how to fly» Janos said, breathless. «I haven't seen another fly since... it feels like forever, you know? I suppose it _is_ forever, everything considered. I'm still shocked at how she could give her life up so easily. I would not be surprised if she felt she'd grow wings once she'd become a vampire, at this point.»  
Vorador chuckled. «She wanted you. You and all your life would entail. I don't think she actually knew anything.»  
Janos hummed, closing his eyes. After a few minutes, he decided he'd go take a bath -as clean as his kills were, he always felt the urge to wash after going hunting. He needed no mind doctor to know that he was still trying to wash away the curse, as if it were a mud stain on his boot. Honestly, though, he didn't really care.  
At least he was clean.  
He disappeared into the Aerie's corridors, sighing deeply when he entered the bathroom and began heating the rock oil with a flick of his wrist.  
In retrospect, it was a shame that he left when he did, because if he'd gone just five minutes later, maybe much of what happened later would not have happened at all. After all, Vorador was a practical man. He did not believe in the afterlife and, subsequently, he did not believe that dead people could communicate with the living. He never told anyone about the dead vampire speaking to him -not until it was too late- and in doing so he sealed his father's fate, along with that of his mate and of the whole of Nosgoth.  
Silent, numb and too horrified to let it show on his ancient face, Vorador stared as Valstrath Lancaster grinned from the mirror, eyes red and blind and a sick necklace of dried blood around his neck.

. . .

«Almost there, sugarcube» he said in his deep, gravel-like voice. «They're almost there -you knew that already and no one believed.»  
Vorador didn't answer immediately. The long since dead vampire tilted his shattered head.  
«What are you thinking?» he asked. Vorador squared his shoulders.  
«I think» he said slowly, «that perhaps I'm finally going mad.»  
Valstrath laughed from behind the glass, head thrown back and a second mouth stretching on his long dark neck. Vorador saw strands of hair caught in the mess of blood there, dried crimson where once they'd been white. The green-skinned vampire had time to be surprised of Valstrath's ability to speak, despite the skull that had caven in beneath who knows what blow.  
«You weren't really sane to begin with, were you, sugarcube?» Valstrath said, voice rough from disuse. «That's correct, you overgrown weed. What happened to your hair? You're smoother than a child's butt.»  
Vorador closed his eyes briefly. «What do you want, Valstrath?»  
«To call upon your debt to me.»  
Vorador's eyes narrowed and his hands tightened into fists. «I owe you nothing, you slimy fucker. What you did-»  
«I freed you, you ungrateful little wretch. They would have killed you. _They would've torn you to shreds._ »  
The truth in Valstrath's words hit him like a battering ram. Vorador fell silent.  
«You owe me a debt» Valstrath growled. « _Pay it_. Keep my fledge safe.»  
 _Janos...?_  
« _Yes, Janos, you foolish boy_. They're getting closer. Coming for him. Seal the bridges.»  
«The bridges -they're sealed. No human could-»  
«They'll use someone - _something_ \- else entirely, they'll let it open the way and they'll follow its steps, they'll murder the raven and bask in the suffering they'll cause-»  
Valstrath suddenly doubled over, breath rasping in his torn throat, hands clawing at his chest. He growled and for a moment  
 _(but what a horrible, terrible moment!)_  
Vorador thought someone  
 _(Janos)_  
had driven a knife in his neck again.  
«I can't see» the ancient vampire rasped, a hand still pressed on his throat to try and keep the wound closed. «I wish I could see what it was, who it was, but it is a dark gap into my vision. Please help him, Vorador. It hurts to be here.»  
«Why now, Valstrath?»  
«It's been so long since the last time I've seen him. I hoped it would be longer still before I did. I tried to tell him, but all I've given were...»  
Valstrath fell silent, eyes filling with quiet pain. Vorador arched an eyebrow.  
«Nightmares» the green-skinned vampire said matter-of-factly.  
«Yes.»  
«I see you found where your faults lie.»  
Valstrath sighed, a bitter grin splitting his face in two. «Those I did find. The courage to look at myself in the mirror, I still don't. I understand now why Janos looked so disgusted in those dreams... how the sight of his fallen mentor must have disappointed him.»  
Vorador offered no comfort to the dead vampire before him. He knew all too well what his father had had to face, the depression, the suicidal thoughts, the hopelessness in his gaze and the hurt and betrayal and anger simmering in his heart. The fear he would not make it, despite all his efforts.  
From the look in Valstrath's eyes, he gathered the Ancient knew something, too.  
«I abandoned him in life. I could not do so in death, too» Valstrath said eventually.  
«You did this to silence your own guilt, then?»  
«And because I still hold affection for Janos, young one. I'm not heartless, you know.»  
«Some might argue with that statement. I remember Hash'ak'gik.»  
«Yes, and look what good it did to spare him. Remember, Vorador. I'll tear your spine from your body if you forget.»  
«You've always been the most exquisite silvertongue I know, Valstrath.»  
Valstrath's rough laughter echoed in the room as the image vanished, leaving nothing, not even Vorador's own reflection, behind.

When Nerissa finally woke, it was four weeks after Vorador's unpleasant -and hurriedly stashed away- meeting with Valstrath's insolent, disturbing ghost. She'd slept uninterruptedly for more than two months, yet when she opened her eyes, her first instinct was to close them again and go back to sleep. Her lids felt heavy and she let them fall closed again as she sighed deeply, beginning to minutely stir.  
Her head felt as if it were full of cotton and her throat was dry enough to hurt. Her temples and eyes pounded and the reverberations spread to her back, which burned and throbbed as if Abraham had consumed ten whips all at once destroying her flesh, blows raining down until he touched bone. Nerissa shifted, feeling strangely unbalanced even while lying down -and coming to think of it, she was lying on her belly and even in her current state of confusion, she knew she didn't particularly favor the position. She then thought about the condition of her back and shuddered at the prospect of lying on it.  
She slowly opened her eyes again and for the first time she noticed the spotless white colour of the sheets. That colour made her frown, a horrible feeling settling in her chest and making her lift her head.  
Nerissa did not need to fear the white, not anymore, but couple the white with the pain her back was in and she couldn't for the life of her remember why. A shiver went down her spine and Nerissa made an effort to get up on weak arms.  
Books. Books everywhere, placed neatly in their proper place on the shelves. The sight was enough to stave most of her worry off: in her old room in Uschtenheim she'd never kept anything of the sort. Her head drooped as she snickered at her own silly fear and in doing so she caught sight of her hands.  
Nerissa almost fell off the bed with how quickly she got up, a silent scream stuck in her throat and her eyes wide with shock.  
Her fingers were as spindly and elegant as ever and her the backs of her palms were criss-crossed by the ususal network of veins, but the skin covering those veins was no longer pearly white. It was blue, way more intense than the delicate hue of Janos' skin -her skin was as blue as a sky at midnight. Her nails, too, had changed, now curving gently in elegant claws, dark in colour.  
She brought those alien hands to her face, feeling its familiar features beneath her fingers. She felt the long outline of her canines as she pressed on her lips and, shocked, she sharply turned towards the large wardrobe in the corner of the room. Nerissa walked to it, feeling the burning in her back intensify, but too scared to look and check on it. She opened the wardrobe's doors and looked at herself in the full figure inner mirror.  
 _Is that me...?_  
The woman staring back from the glass surface didn't look like her anymore. Her face was the same dark hue of her hands and in the gloomy shadow that was her visage her eyes burned, as intense a green as they'd ever been, her lips standing out in their pale lilac colour. Her curls fell around her like a waterfall, blue and indigo and gold when they caught the light, and on her back, casting faint lights on her dark strands, a pair of enormous, feathered white wings rose and fell with her accelerated breathing.  
Trembling almost violently, she brought a shaking hand to the feather closest to her shoulder.  
It was dry and soft and waxy beneath her fingers and the gentle touch caused a shiver to go _through_ the wing and down her spine, the sensation making her sway on her feet. Slowly she attempted to unfurl one and as soon as she decided to do so, the wing began to move, feathers brushing over one another and glinting in the soft orange glow of the torches' flames. The pale lights on her hair shifted and came to rest on her dark blue cheekbones.  
It was the final drop in the proverbial overflowing vase. Nerissa screamed, wings shuddering with the force of her agitation.

Janos and Vorador had been caught up in an animated discussion -about magical wards out of anything they could pick, and perhaps someone would say Valstrath was still stubbornly trying to speak his mind through their mouths- when they heard the scream. It was kind of difficult to hear, with the winter winds howling outside the Aerie, but it possessed a certain pitch that was impossible to ignore.  
Janos turned his head sharply at the bloodcurdling sound (still used to the eerie silence of his Aerie, loud noises kept on catching him by susrprise). Vorador grimaced, chin lifting as his whole body went rigid.  
«I do believe she's awakened» he said, tone more off-hand than how he actually felt. He then ignored his father's concern-filled glare as he followed Janos in the freezing corridors of the Ancient''s home to the chamber where Nerissa had slept up until that day. It was quite secluded from the rest of the Aerie and the time spent getting there was used by Janos to nurture useless, though sincere, worry. Objectively, he realized he had nothing to fear, her transformation having been as easy as any other fledgling's despite its unusually long duration. But being emotionally invested in someone had its downsided, namely superfluous anxiety when it came to them.  
Janos cared not about that, however, and as he made his way towards the sleeping chamber his concern only grew, its growth matching that of Nerissa's shock and upset that he felt thought their mental link.  
 _Janos..._  
Weak. Flabbergasted. Numb. And _awed_.  
The ancient vampire opened the door slowly, the heavy wooden frame sliding on perfectly oiled hinges, and for a moment a powerful shuddering fear went through him. Fear of the unknown, perhaps.  
 _The unknown_...  
The unknown, _his_ unknown, stood in front of the inner mirror of the wardrobe and her double in the looking glass stared at him with her large, liquid emerald eyes. For a moment he couldn't process what he was seeing, for her visage had become _shadowy_ , as dark a blue as the deepest ocean, her hair falling in soft limp ringlets about her neck and shoulders. The long column of her throat, which had once been white, was accentuated in its dark hue by the white dress she wore, the thin fabric now showing a faint image of the beautiful, newly-darkened curves it hid. But, of course, it was the wings that which stood out the most: massive structures of large bones and imposing muscle, covered in wide, soft, shiny white feathers.  
Janos' breath hitched in his throat as if someone had just punched it out of his lungs. Nerissa would've walked up to him had she been able to do so: but her balance had been impaired by the growth of those beautiful extra limbs on her back. She had barely made it to the closet without falling. So, instead, she let out the sound that she'd been restraining up until that moment -a crystalline, joyful laugh. Yes, she was shocked and afraid, but she'd never been happier than she was in that moment. The burning of her dry throat and the mad pain in her back, the blood pounding in her temples and her unsteady steps; all this was making Nerissa brim with joy, with the desire to scream and laugh in pure contentment.  
She had an eternity to spend with the immortal man she loved and, through death, she'd gained the ultimate, supreme freedom: the enormous white wings whose primaries brushed the floor were proof enough of that.  
Staggering a little but persevering nonetheless, Nerissa walked to Janos and threw her arms around his neck, crushing thier lips together with enough force that the Ancient stumbled backwards. Janos' strong arms were swift to surround her, though, and his right hand cupped her darkened cheek, lips parting so that they could taste each other for their second first time -one tasting a mouth newly made immortal, the other experiencing vampiric senses for the first time.  
 _Janos... beloved..._  
Janos hummed at the words and soft tone, gently parting their lips to softly brush her blue cheek with the back of his fingers. Their foreheads touched as he smiled, soft and warm, and his hand ran on her back until he could touch long feathers that covered hollow bones.  
Nerissa shuddered in his arms at the loving touch, a sigh fluttering from her lips. Her head fell onto his shoulder, forehead buried in the side of his neck.  
«Mmmn... Janos...»  
The Ancient almost chuckled at the sensual, tender display. He ran his hand on the thick bone at the base of her wing  
 _(her own wing)_  
and Nerissa gasped, tightening her grip around his neck.  
«I cannot wait to see you fly» he murmured in her now pointy ear, the tendons in his slender throat stretching gracefully as he turned his head to take that new tip into his mouth, teeth scraping gently as Nerissa shuddered yet again. Her skin had to be cold to a human, Janos knew, but to him, her body burned.  
 _-I used to think you could not become more beautiful that how you were... I was wrong. You look absolutely exquisite, my love, a wondrous creature of beauty._  
Nerissa looked up at his visage and her knees went weak. She had never thought she might be seeing him foggily, but here she was, the veil finally ripped and fallen at her feet, like mist clearing from her vision. And she could see, for the very first time, Janos Audron in all his true beauty. The soft arch of his lips, ready to stretch in a soft warm smile, the noble curve of his sharp cheekbones, his high forehead and those small wrinkles around his eyes when he smiled -all this made Janos, her lover, the most handsome man she'd ever seen in both her lives.  
His firm, gentle touches on her wings were making her shake with what was not shock at all, and Nerissa suspected Janos knew that well. She could gather as much from the little smile he placed on her temple. Not that she was complaining as for the result. Her body was growing steadily hotter, a dim flame igniting in her loins, and Nerissa sighed, breath hot on Janos' neck.  
« _Ahem._ »  
Caught up as they were with each other, the two winged vampires had completely forgotten about the presence of a third party. Janos turned his head in a smooth movement  
 _(how had she never noticed how graceful his every move was?)  
_ and smiled to his son, beautiful soft lips quirking and slowing the indentations where his long canines were.  
«Forgive us, Vorador» he said, voice rich and earthy and beautifully accented -the pronounciation of the words was a tad harsher than those living in Uschtenheim or even in Termogent Forest, his Rs and Ds and Ts pronounced on the front of the mouth instead of the back of the throat. It was exotic in a northern sort of way, an accent that reminded Nerissa of cold blue-grey waves crashing on high, harsh bluffs. She breathed his scent in, the smoky fragrance of incense and old stone rooms, and caught something else beneath it, something that was purely _Janos_ : the scent of the wild wind howling among the clouds, soaring high above their heads into the nocturnal beauty of the sky.  
Vorador was smiling knowingly at them from the doorstep, his good-naturedly mocking smirk showing a hidden gentleness in the corners of his mouth. Nerissa laughed, a crystalline sound, and gripped Janos harder in her dark-skinned immortal arms.  
Vorador stepped forward and reached out, his hand's skin feeling like leather when she gave him her own. He brought it to his thin lips, kissing her knuckles as if she were a great lady and not the discarded not-daughter of a dead madman.  
«I never thought I'd see the day when I'd be happy for the existence of a human» he said. «But for your living being, for that I am grateful. Welcome to our world, Nerissa, my child.»  
Dizzy with happiness, Nerissa smiled from her spot, head still resting on Janos' shoulder. The Ancien held her closer still, pressing a sweet kiss to her temple.  
«Yes,» he whispered. «Welcome, my love.»

. . .

Authoress' note:  
Thank you for the kind reviews on ch. 23! They really helped me a lot!  
Also, since I doubt DNA has been discovered in Nosgoth's universe, the genetics that connect Valstrath and Nerissa -and so their similar features, like the dark skin and white wings- will not be explained in the story. Thank you for bearing with me :)  
I do not own in any shape or form the characters featured in this story -this also applies to the story's image cover and to the quotes at the beginning of each chapter. I only own my OCs and the story's plot.


	25. Interlude

Chapter Twenty-Five

 _As the years slowly passed from the day of our ruin  
-my soul-death, I refer to it with this name-,  
the memories began to unravel and fray around the edges,  
and what remained was turned into ideal, myth, and legend.  
Gradually, no breathing creatures lived to remember how it had been,  
and those who survived had no desire to remember.  
Happiness lay on the bottom of a bottle.  
If not happiness, at least the absence of pain.  
White became pale grey.  
Colours dulled.  
As the land sluggishly withered, eyes misted over.  
Many faces, mortal and immortal, bloomed and vanished  
under changing reigns, kings and rules.  
Kingdoms rose and were buried by sand.  
The earth was our mother. There was no endless fame.  
But there is the twilight and there is the dawn.  
There is the silence where all else is gone.  
From the high crystal windows of a castle long since silenced,  
I wait.  
Music is waiting,  
and the following silence feels like freedoms undone._

. . .

Authoress' note:  
ALMOST THERE! The first part of this fic is coming to an end, gang, so gather warm blankets, hot chocolate and tissues and be prepared to cry.  
I do not own in any shape or form the characters featured in this story -this also applies to the story's image cover and to the quotes at the beginning of each chapter. I only own my OCs and the story's plot.


	26. Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Six

 _Music lies.  
_. . .

«I can't believe it» Nerissa snapped, brushing herself off. «I look at you and the birds, and it looks so graceful and easy. Then I try and I can only find new, more inventive ways to fall.»  
Janos smiled softly, his arms going around her middle as she rested her forehead on his broad shoulder. She stroked his chest with her palms, on the place where powerful flight muscles crossed and met. His heart beat steadily underneath, a regular pulse that calmed her down better than anything else. At night, when nightmares and thoughts assaulted her, she rested her head on his steadily-beating chest and her mind always found soothing rest.  
«You're young» he murmured in her now pointy ear. «It's perfectly normal.»  
Nerissa sighed softly, strong hands caressing his silky hair. With her new hightened senses, she could never get enough of the feeling of his skin under her fingers, his smoky scent, or his taste. The latter especially -she could have spent hours just learning every little nuance of the bouquet that was Janos' kiss.  
They'd been trying for weeks now, though understandably Nerissa had been struggling quite a bit with the new limbs she'd grown practically overnight. The muscles in her back had ached for weeks after her Turning, a bone-deep pain that had been as annoying as it had been wonderful. She'd stretched those muscles as often as she dared and that, coupled with long massages Janos regularly gave her, had contributed to the glorious state her wings were now in. Furthermore, as she'd been delighted to discover, the wings were exceptionally sensitive, especially around the base of the strong bones, so many of those massages had turned into something else entirely after only a little while. It was Janos' fault, though, for being so _hot_.  
«Can we try again?» Nerissa asked softly. She was leaning against him, cool cheek pressed to the hollow of his slender throat, and Janos nodded gently against the top of her head.  
They parted and Janos patiently showed her again how to bend her legs to facilitate taking off, how to downbeat her wings to take flight and _stay_ in the air this time. The thing was, her feathered white wings looked so delicate and fragile that Nerissa was always stricken with the impossible fear that they wouldn't be able to sustain her weight. After all, she was slim, but she was by no means _small_.  
«Spread your wings, darling» Janos murmured, staring in mute awe as the white pinions he so treasured spread in the chilly winter air. Unable to help himself, he ran his long taloned fingers down the soft silky feathers, making the whole wing shudder with Nerissa's quiet giggle.  
«That tickles!» she breathed happily. «I understand your sensitivity now».  
Janos gave a heartfelt chuckle, remembering just what they'd used that sensitivity for the night before. Honestly, she did things to him that should be illegal.  
«Now bend your knees, just lightly, yes, like that»; and so on, keeping on giving her instructions until she was finally, finally able to downbeat her wings and lift into the air.  
Instantly she felt her heart clench and her stomach drop. The sensation of being weightless as her feet left the icy floor was incredibly strange and she flailed in the air, wings fluttering madly as she tried to gain some semblance of balance.  
«Careful, my love» Janos said, amused, as he watched his lover struggle. She was insanely _cute_ like this, and he said so with a sparkle in his eyes and a smile on his dark lips. Nerissa laughed despite her uncertainty, her now dark skin preventing her blush from showing, though Janos still perceived it through their mental link. He took off too, with a grace Nerissa couldn't help but feel extremely envious of, and gently took her face in his hands. Her skin felt warm beneath his hands and he softly pressed his mouth to hers.  
As they kissed, the irregular fluttering of Nerissa's wings slowed down, becoming more regular as seconds passed and neither tried to put an end to the joining of their mouths.  
«You're learning» he said softly, making her laugh.  
«I haven't yet hit my head on the ceiling, at least» came her reply. «I still have no idea how to move without falling or knocking things over, but I suppose it's a start.»  
The Ancient smiled, moving slightly backwards so that their wings didn' knock together. He rose a little, taking her hand in the process.  
«Time to get out of here, I think» he grinned, pulling her towards the balcony. The surprise in her eyes, which made her wings stutter for a moment, made him chuckle lightly.  
«What?! I can barely stay upright as it is, do you really think I'm ready to take on the winds?» she laughed, a little spooked and more than a little incredulous. But Janos' gentle smile did not waver and she stared at him, weakly resisting his pull.  
«Janos...»  
The older vampire chuckled yet again. «You're definitely ready, and the additional stimulus of the wind will give you the kick you need to make it all fall into place, so to speak. I can see it, love, you're as ready as they come.»  
«Janos Audron, if I fall and die, I'll haunt you for the rest of eternity.»  
Janos laughed openly at that and let her hand go, flying backwards with a graceful twirl that included every part of his body. He met the open sky with a loud beat of wings and sudden screams from the Sarafan below, which went ignored in favor of looking at his mate. His eyes carried a joy she had never seen in him, carefree and crystal-clear like the lake's waters in summer.  
«Aren't we feeling playful today» Nerissa commented, a grin working is way on her own face. «Always so serious and the _one time_ I actually need seriousness...»  
She shook her head, uncertainly angling her wings so that the next down beat would bring her forwards and toward the freedom of the sky. The current she created propelled her forward, ripping a small cry from her throat, but she managed to keep her body balanced despite the growing ache in the muscles of her new limbs. She was wary of actually flying out of the Aerie, lest those wings failed her and let her fall towards her death -wether by the impact with the unforgiving ground or the Sarafan's attack, she didn't want to know. But no, not her death, after all. Not with Janos present, not with her newfound vampiric powers.  
Not immediately, then.  
Good compromise.  
«We're too high up for their arrows to reach us, love» Janos' voice rung, gentle in the air. «Don't worry about falling, darling. Should your wings fail you, I'll be there to stop your fall.»  
Nerissa smiled at him, slowly gliding forward again, her feathers meeting the cold winter air of the sky for the first time.  
It was less earth-shattering than what she'd expected.  
Oh, her heart and stomach were still in her throat and her intestines still felt tied in a tight knot, but the sensation wasn't unpleasant. She felt it in her bones, in her muscles -her wings would still be able to keep her in mid-air for some time. Her body felt connected to her mind like never before, as if she were really feeling it for the first time, feeling her arms and legs and wings and recognising them as _hers_. It was _glorious_.  
Nerissa chanced a glance to the world below, finding it covered in the virginal white of the first snow. The colour blinded her with its purity, the light from the sickly sun hitting it and bouncing back in all the colours of the rainbow and _more_. The blues and the greens of the water below and the greys of the rocks, the brown of the earth, they all seemed more alive, more vivid than they'd ever been, and her joyful, shocked laughter rung crystalline in the icy air of that winter twilight.  
Beneath them, the Sarafan stared. Unknown to both vampires, mixed feelings tugged at them -hatred and disgust embedded by years of war and some sort of alien admiration, the quiet wonder and longing the heart experiences in front of beauty, the desire to be up there with them somehow, and the unknown melancholy that came with the awareness that it was not to be. Their voices impossibly quietened, insults and curses lost in the wind as their faces turned upwards to look at the two beings suspended in the sky.  
Staring, in solemn silence, as they assisted to the birth of fire.

. . .

TWO THOUSAND YEARS LATER

Nosgoth.  
A land spread out beneath their eyes and wings like a scroll -a land like a flower, just as strong and just as fragile.  
New legends were told, words and imaginery changing over the years but the core remaining the same. The demon in the mountains had found a priestess for his own cult and had taken her as his own bride. The painted bat-like monsters were two now.  
The spiteful said they were fallen angels, old drunkards claiming to have seen them plummet from the sky like eagles with broken wings, damnation and bloodthirst to be their eternal punishment for their unknown, loathsome sins. Some, more romantic, claimed that their sin had been falling in love with each other.  
They listened to the ever-changing flow of stories, leting them all slide like water on a rock and laughing wholeheartedly at the silliness of them -sometimes even going as far as spreading new rumors themselves and enjoying the resulting human creations. They seldom fought, but when they did, it was enough to make doors shake in their hinges. Sometimes the aftermath of silence from both parts lasted days -once it lasted two weeks. They were all too grateful and relieved when they finally reconciled with one another, forgetting what they'd argued over altogether.  
Life was good despite the harsh reality they dwelt in. Nerissa's wings had grown stronger and after long years -neither remembered how many, to be honest- her hands had finally changed, the number of her fingers dwindling from five to three along with that of her toes. Yet, her eyes had remained the same, with more freckles of gold than before, perhaps, but still as green as the darkest of emeralds. As for Janos, his steps were light and his smile was easy to bring forth, his eyes twinkling like twin otherwordly stars. Lightness and carefree joy were often heard in his voice, his thoughts losing their sombre, bitter edge.  
The Sarafan became bolder with the passing of the centuries, going as far as settling their camp on the lake's shores. When winter came, they moved even closer, stepping on the thick white ice covering the water's surface. Janos wasn't overly bothered by them, his only comment -told in such a dry tone that Nerissa _just_ had had to laugh- being that they 'ruined the lovely sight of the landscape with their annoying presence'. Nerissa was wary of them instead, often staring at them with a disdain that reminded Janos of his elder fledgling. She didn't like the oblivious stupidity they splayed out in the open with their insults and ill-fated attempts at finishing them both off, and she absolutely loathed the fact that they seemed to be obsessed with Janos in particular, trying to shoot him down whenever he flew out of the Aerie. She expressed her displeasure in subtle, quiet ways, like setting fire to every single arrow they shot at him with a lazy gesture of her hand, whenever she saw the offending objects flying towards her spouse.  
The newly made Ancient (even if she wasn't really one) had discovered her connection with the flames in a totally unexpected way. They'd been visiting Vorador, the ancient vampire wishing to show her the gauntlets he'd designed for her. She'd sat too close to the fire and had noticed the flames moved with her hands as she spoke to Vorador, his laughter telling her they'd been doing so for a while. She mostly toyed with fire though, not having any real use for it besides playing for her own amusement. However, she'd quickly realized she could control it only to a certain extent. Nerissa could set fire to things, but could not keep them from burning, and though she could control the direction in which the flames spread, she could not contain them. This had led her to be extremely careful when handling fire, which responded well to her magic anyway.  
Sometimes, the two vampires danced. Nerissa, having grown up in a castle and all that came with it -haughty nobility being only one of the nuisance she'd known-, had had to learn how to dance almost compulsorily, even though she didn't particularly enjoy it. On the contrary, Janos adored dancing, but was absolutely no good at it. It was as if he had two left feet, Nerissa had said once, laughing with him after their latest fall to the floor. And he'd taken lessons, mind you, from Vorador none the less -Vorador who was probably the most talented dancer on Nosgoth, three wives will do that to you, and who'd given up on teaching his father after the umpteenth time Janos had gotten the steps wrong. They'd laughed themselves silly that day, the Ancient recalled fondly. So yes, they danced sometimes, often ending up on the floor, each in the arms of the other, grinning like fools.  
And, of course, they flew together.  
Neither believed they would ever tire of it, of the wind howling around them as they fell from the sky or glided through it, as they sped among the clouds and felt their bite on their skin. They would never tire of the feeling of the air between their entwined hands, beneath their fingertips, kissing their bodies through their light clothes. They especially loved flying at dusk, when the sun slowly died over the horizon and left the stars in its wake, twinkling like tiny diamonds in the visual poetry that was the night sky. They saw those very same stars reflected in the other's eyes, and in summer they often fell asleep on the balcony, bodies covered by each other's wings, cradled by the warm hands of the night.  
Where Nerissa had avoided violence before, when she was alive, she now didn't scorn it.  
 _(she didn't yet revel in it -that would come later, then she screamed and bled and tore at her own skin while remaining utterly motionless. That would come when torturing others, hearing them howl and shriek and wail in pain would become the only way to silence her own suffering.)_  
Their hunts weren't bloody and neither prolonged their prey's suffering for longer than strictly necessary, but Nerissa would often stare in fascination as the light in their eyes went out. Janos would look at her intently in return, silent and disquieted at the admiration of death he saw in her eyes, but after two thousand years together, he'd stopped worrying about her acting on it. The bloodthirsty monster the humans depicted in their stained glass windows still lay dormant, and Janos would be subjugated to its wrath only many centuries later.  
The soft, sweet music pervading the _here_ and _now_ stopped with a last lingering note, a quiet rustle of feathers and clothes coming closer. Nerissa's hand came to rest on his cheek, cupping his face sweetly as he leaned his head back, resting on her flat, toned stomach.  
«You seem pensive today, love» she murmured. Her voice had grown lower over the millenia, now sounding more guttural, a feral snarl now hidden in its dephts.  
Janos closed his eyes, sighing. «I was remembering.»  
«Hmmm. And what were you remembering?»  
Her hands were warm as they raked through his silky strands of hair, longer now as he still had to cut it. Nerissa's own hair had grown too, now reaching past her hips in long, dark ringlets he loved to caress. He would often weave a white ribbon in them when he braided that unholy wealth of hair, careful with the tresses she'd taken to wear flames in. Apparently, her control over fire was total and absolute when she was using it upon herself (as a fire-weaver, it only made sense) and so, for absolutely nothing but vain purposes, she had begun to weave flames into her hair. Now, among the dark waves of curls, flaming strands burned on and on without consuming anything but a minimal part of her energy. Although he didn't really understand the aesthetics of it, Janos couldn't say he was displeased with the change -especially since he'd found out that touching the flames warmed his skin without actually burning it. Nerissa had been careful with her fire-weavings, her influence over the flames growing even millenia after having discovered it.  
Now, back to the present, Janos raised a hand to touch the one still cupping his cheek. In the blue-grey light of a new winter, the contrast of their skins was marvelous.  
«The first time I saw you» he answered. «Our life since then. The sky is more beautiful with you in it.»  
She chuckled quietly, her stomach trembling with it, Janos hearing the silence of her long since still heart.  
Still, but not dead. Never dead.  
«The first time we really flew together,» she whispered, «I remember thinking how beautiful it was. I never thanked you for allowing me to experience it all. For giving me the time we've had -the time we still have. Thank you, Janos... for everything.»  
 _-It was an entirely selfish decision on my part, I'll have you know. I would have never been able to watch you wither and die before my eyes, not after what you'd given me.  
Oh, love...  
_She bent in half to kiss him on the lips as he turned his head up. _I'm happy you were selfish. So, so very happy.  
_ Janos responded to her kiss as if he were drinking from her neck -languidly, pervaded with a sweet sense of abandon and unhurriedness and quiet, calm arousal.  
«We should go hunting tonight» Janos murmured against her lips. «The weather's getting increasingly harsher, in a few days we'll probably be unable to fly outside.»  
«Hmm-hm. If you say so, love» she said, smiling. «We'll also have to replenish the blood fountains. They're almost dry.»  
In the mountains, where anyone could expect a snowstorm to isolate them from the world for a period spanning from a few days to weeks at a time, everyone had to have a stock of food somewhere, and the two vampires were no exception.  
«Shall we go now?» she asked, straightening up. She glanced out of the window, into the pastel coloured light of the dying day. «It's twilight anyway, by the time we reach Uschtenheim, the shadows will have fallen. And there's the fog, too.»  
She had a point. Useless to dawdle, then. Janos closed his eyes, pulling her close once more.  
«Five more minutes» he muttered in her stomach. Nerissa smiled, resuming her slow caresses through his hair.

. . .

They left shortly after, once the night had fallen and their forms could be better concealed. It was at times like these that Nerissa cursed the blinding white colour of her pinions, which made her as noticeable as a red splotch of blood on a black canvas.  
That time she didn't have to take any precautions, as the fog had luckily settled like a pale cloud, hovering just a little above the ground. The Sarafan only saw confused, blurry shapes fluttering high up in the sky, not bigger than blind little bats, and if they had any suspicions about the true nature of those figures, they didn't act on them. In that respect, winter had many more advantages than summer, as much as both vampires enjoyed the warmth and hot weather.  
They flew, as silent as nocturnal predators, their flight making no noise in the night. Their movements graceful and tinged with playfulness, they soared above the ground with the powerful, deep sound of their wings cradling them.  
The wooden roofs of Uschtenheim creaked when they landed atop them.  
Nerissa would never tire of watching the ever-changing appearance of the city where she'd been born. Two thousand years later, the houses were taller and more solid-looking, bricks and grey stone making up the walls and sometimes the roofs, too. Balconies were more common and the streets had been paved -gone was the narrow path through the woods she used to get to Janos' lake, a lifetime ago. Abraham's fortress had been razed to the ground by angry mobs and then built anew, now hosting the Sarafan troops and sometimes Moebius the Time Streamer. The _fucker_ still hadn't died, and if Nerissa had had doubts about his human nature, now she was convinced he was a demon among men.  
 _That, or an incredibly lively, dreadful old pig.  
_ She supposed having to do with Time had made him incredibly long-lived.  
 _-I suggest we take only Sarafan soldiers tonight,_ Janos Whispered. Nerissa nodded, without needing him to explain. The sensations rolling off him in waves were explanation enough - _youth, health, strenght_.  
They parted then, Nerissa slipping away in the shadows of the paved streets, while Janos' gaze shifted towards the fortress.  
Now, he wouldn't normally hunt in the nest of the Safaran's hive, but he felt like risking a little bit tonight. The thrill of the chase wasn't something he often indulged in, preferring to do away with his kills quickly and without fuss -this feeling of restlessness was quite alien to him. He decided to follow it nonetheless, starting towrds the looming dark towers on cat's steps.  
The first guard he met was young, stupid and alone. The bite caught her by surprise and Janos sucked her dry in a matter of seconds. She was dead before she could understand what was happening, lowered to the snowy ground with no more blood to spill.  
The following two soldiers went down just as easily, their blood ending up in the magicked vials that could hold much more than what they looked capable of. Janos made sure to make their deaths as swift and painless as possible, drawing the red life liquid out with telekinesis once their hearts had been made unable to pump it out on their own.  
His spouse had already seen the fourth soldier that came to beneath Janos' claws. Nerissa wouldn't have remembered him clearly, perhaps, but those features were hard to completely forget.  
The young man's first instinct was to call out for help. Then he realized his companions would never get there in time to save him. With fear and dread and a mad sense of completion, he settled for making it difficult to get his hide -even as he reflected that the tales he'd been told about the vampire's appearance were completely false. There was no growling, no snarls, and a noticeable lack of drooling.  
«Vampire» the human spat. «You appear even more ugly than your painted version.»  
«Hmm. Do you resort to insults when you're afraid, then?» Janos said smoothly, a smirk tugging his lips as he saw the human's deathly grip on the sword. The young man was angry -hadn't expected the monster to talk with his same words, perhaps. He didn't spend any more time talking anyway.  
He was much more difficult to subdue than the others, fighting with all he had. It was no match for the Ancient's prowess, however, and Janos sank his fangs into his neck with a dark sense of victory.  
The blue-eyed man struggled and kicked and Janos learnt things that spurted forth along with his lifeblood. He saw and feared and hated and admired, and the awareness he wouldn't -couldn't- prevent any of it made him sick to the stomach. He saw the future through the man's eyes and it was with a terrible effort that he managed to tear his head from the wound before the light of the mortal's soul escaped.  
Janos stared at the unconscious young man, for the first time in millenia with stinging eyes. He briefly thought about killing him -how easy it would be, to bleed him dry or to break his slender white neck! At the same time he thought this, he knew he could not do so -too much would change, the broken future spinning like an abandoned wheel until the moment came when it stopped altogether. And fleeing from his retreat in the mountains wasn't an option either. This man would still have need of him.  
So, Janos Audron fled the scene. He flew atop one of the towers, dark shadow against the pale moon, searching for the fight the guards would surely offer. He lost himself in the pure physicality of the battle, his thoughts retreating to the deepest part of his consciousness. When the red veil fell from his eyes, he was surrounded by corpses tangled with still breathing masses of crumpled flesh and broken bones, not yet dead but not far from the last threshold. The sight made his stomach churn, bile rising in his throat and it was only Nerissa's scream for him to _run, fly, leave,_ that broke him out -at least partially- of his surreal state. He was pulled into the sky by Nerissa's hand and sheer force of will, his wings stuttering for the first time since he was a child.  
They flew home with dread and confusion rolling off Janos and Nerissa respectively. The white-winged vampire's concern was a palpable thing between them, the very wind they rode to fly away seemingly impregnated with it.  
 _Janos, what the hell happened back there?! You look as if you'd seen a ghost!_  
 _Be silent_ , a stone-cold voice growled in his head. _Because she'll convince you to fly away with her, or will set fire to all of Uschtenheim to kill the man. You shut up, sparrow, don't you dare.  
_ The voice was right, and how he wanted to defy it. Defy Fate, his God -if only this once- to keep living.  
 _Oh_ , he didn't want to die.  
Janos Audron was a vampire, a terribly ancient one at that, but still, only a vampire. He feared death like any other would, like any _human_ would, not dreading the unknown of it as much as its pain.  
And what of his son, and of his spouse?  
What would they do once he was gone?  
 _Guess you'll just have to wait and see, eh, sparrow?_ Valstrath asked from between his temples, tone sombre. _Wait and see. Just like you've always done.  
_ Janos refused to answer Nerissa's questions.

. . .

Nothing of importance happened the following ten years.

. . .

When the nightmares began visiting him again, Janos knew the time had come. Nerissa kept comforting him, holding late at night when he'd wake up drenched in reddish sweat, screams trapped in his throat. She would weave tales of a time that would never come, of the places they'd see and things they would experience once the Messiah had arrived and freed them. She would hold him tight and whisper sweet nonsense into his pointy ear, kiss his lips and make love to him and never know that their time was bitterly, oh so bitterly short.  
Janos resolved to spend as much time as possible with both her and Vorador, visiting the mansion in the forest more frequently, for longer periods of time. Perhaps, in his unconscious mind, he hoped that the Saviour would show up during his stay among his kin, and that he would be spared from drinking from that bitter chalice. Yet when they returned, the Aerie always looked unblemished, untouched, immobile in the constant flow of Time as if it had been frozen there.  
And then, at last, it was winter again.

. . .

 _After my long journey, I finally stood on the threshold of enlightenment. For here was Janos Audron's mountain retreat, intact and unblemished. The upheaval that would one day topple this ancient edifice had not yet occurred. And while I had no certainty that Janos still lived, this scene boded well – for I presumed that the collapse of the retreat must have followed the ancient vampire's demise._ _  
_ _There was only one obstacle: how to reach the balcony suspended at that maddening height, so far beyond my reach? For this was the architecture of winged creatures, and the tattered ruins of my wings were of no use._ _  
_ _I would need to devise some other means into that mountain..._

. . .

«You're not coming?» she asked, disappointment evident in her voice.  
Her green eyes pierced his heart like no spear could and in that moment he almost told her. But he bit his tongue as he lied through his teeth, stoically ordering himself to answer in a natural way.  
«I have some work to do» he said. «I'll join you later».  
She looked at him with narrowed eyes. Janos held her scrutinizing gaze and the horrible ache in his chest as he realized he would never see her again. He fought not to let his pain show on his face.  
«Alright...» Nerissa said finally, looking away towards the balcony. «'Til later then, love». And turned, starting to walk out.  
Unable to fight the urge anymore, he called her name. «Wait!»  
She turned around, frowning, confused by the urgency in his voice, but her questions were silenced by black lips closing over her own.  
Janos held her close, too overwhelmed to mask his desperation. He felt one of her hands on the back of his neck and the other on the side of his face and buried his hand in her jet black hair.  
He tried to pour all the love he felt in that last kiss, treasuring the feeling of her lips against his, of her hair under his palm, of her body pressed to his own. Who would hold her that way when he would be gone? Who would make her laugh? Who would make her cry? Who would be gifted with her emerald gazes?  
He didn't have answers, and couldn't delay their farewell anymore.  
With death in his heart, he let go of her, looking at her eyes one more time. They were shining so bright, two emeralds in backlight against the stainless blue of her skin.  
 _I want to save that light..._  
«Go, my love» he murmured reassuringly.  
Nerissa studied him one last time, then smiled softly. «You act strange sometimes».  
«Perhaps I do.»  
Still smiling, she spread her wings and with a single, powerful beat, she took flight, bolting out from the balcony.  
He watched as she disappeared among the white clouds, a shining angel with dark hair. His legs felt weak, wings slumped down on his back.  
His angel.  
A single tear ran down his cheek.  
His breath hitched in his throat as he heard the doors creak open, and then his name, spoken by an unknown voice.  
He closed his eyes for a moment before answering.  
He turned and in the same moment he saw the Chosen One, he knew he would never see her again. The small bubble of hope he'd jealously kept in his chest burst as if punctured by a needle.  
Because the Chosen didn't have wings, and so must have opened himself a way to get up there. Opening the way to the Sarafan.  
He called the child's name, while everything in him screamed one more kiss, one more word, one more glance, one more.

. . .

 _Life was precious, Janos Audron thought,  
as it was torn beating and bleeding  
from his still-living chest._

. . .

 _When Janos died, Nerissa felt him go._

. . .

« _Janos! Ja-_ »  
And Nerissa grew still, forgetting her spouse's name's last syllable.  
She stood like that, staring at the stone table, eyes wide and expression solemn like a fledgling's who are attending their first hunting lesson. The deafening silence swallowed her breaths. A few moment from that instant she would have begun screaming, but for now, she simply remained in silence, hands pressed together against her dress, as if in prayer to a God whose hymns were cries of pain.  
Then, the expression of almost religious solemnity began turning into something else. Her wide eyes began to bulge out. Her mouth stretched in a horrible grimace of horror. She wanted to scream and could not. They were screams too great to find their way out through her throat.  
The phantom flame she'd conjured to illuminate the place had a fluorescent light. It produced no shadows. One could see everything, willing or not.  
His chest had been ripped open from his throat down -or up, she thought in a horrified paroxism, because they's forced him upon the old stone table in the centre of the room- to his navel. The strenum had split in two and his ribs had spread open like an animal opening its gaping maw. In the strong light of the flame, the gash looked purple. Exposed tendons and muscles looked like cheap cuts of meat in a butcher's shop.

A drop of blood formed at the edge of Janos' hand talon. It got bigger. It winked. It fell.  
 _Plick.  
_ His head had been overturned so much that his short black hair brushed against the skin between his shoulder blades. His lips were parted as if he had been interrupted while saying something. His hands lay limp and still at his sides, the right one swung just over the smooth stone surface. His eyes were wide open, shiny and dead.  
Another drop fell to the ground. _  
Plick.  
_ Nerissa Graves started screaming.

. . .

Authoress' note:  
IT'S FINISHED!  
Almost two years after the first chapter, the first part of 'The Freedoms Undone' is finally finished!  
I deeply thank everyone who supported me all the way to this last chapter -readers, reviewers and kudoers alike. I would have never made it hadn't it been for you.  
I plan to take a break before beginning the second part, as I'm still not sure about how I want it to go, but don't worry -I will not abandon the LoK universe. Stay tuned for more and THANK YOU AGAIN!  
The part where Raziel thinks is taken _verbatim_ from the game.  
I do not own in any shape or form the characters featured in this story -this also applies to the story's image cover and to the quotes at the beginning of each chapter. I only own my OCs and the story's plot.


End file.
